


worth your trouble

by lateralplosion



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Inferiority complexes, M/M, Peer Academic Advising, Rivals to Lovers, The Reality of Imposter Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:31:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lateralplosion/pseuds/lateralplosion
Summary: If nothing else—the last couple of weeks have taught Donghyuck that sometimes you need to pretend until you know what you're doing.





	worth your trouble

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to all nahyuckists—we r truly living in boom era ♡
> 
> _rating is for one scene!_

Jeno has taken over Mark's phone, he just knows. Donghyuck scowls down at his phone, tapping through Mark's Instagram stories—mostly candid or blurry shots of Mark in restaurants or shops—presumably taken by Jeno. Donghyuck bites down on the inside of his cheeks and sighs, forcing himself to exit out of the Instagram app.

The thing is, he should have been there, too, by now, should have flown out with Mark and Jeno on Tuesday like they had all originally planned. This had been _their_ vacation, the Winter Break getaway that he had planned with Mark since last summer—the last quality time he'd get to spend with Mark before his impending graduating whisked him off into the world of law and the only way he'd get to see him would be through Jeno. Unfortunately, the Finals god—in one grand, final gesture of magnanimity—had gifted him with two finals on Thursday and one on Friday evening, basically the most fatal combination of exam times a student could have. It meant that Donghyuck was forcibly stranded on campus until the very end of the week, instead of getting to go home early like most of his friends (Renjun had actually left the weekend before—damn him for having just papers and no exams). It meant that he'd been forced to give up the cushy JetBlue flight lined lovingly with Mark's frequent flier miles and arrange another way to meet them up north.

In perspective, it's not the end of the world. Donghyuck will be joining them both soon, he knows, and then he'll be free to drag them around as originally planned, but it sucks, being left behind—even for a few days. It always does.

_ i hate you both_, he sends to Mark's Facebook messages. Donghyuck's not entirely sure who he's typing to, as Jeno is on Mark's phone half the time. He doesn't really care. _ you better not go to the wharf without me _

The message becomes marked read, but whoever has Mark's phone is decidedly too busy to respond. Donghyuck sighs and shoves his phone back into his pocket, fidgeting with the straps of his duffel bag. Without the promise of Mark's airfare assistance, Donghyuck had reluctantly arranged a rideshare up north with someone from their campus Facebook group. It was bound to be unpleasant—the drive would take about five to six hours—but it would a hell of a lot cheaper than shelling out $250 roundtrip for a plane ticket. And it would get him there. That's the most important thing.

If he ever _did_ get there, though. Donghyuck glances around the parking lot where he'd arranged to meet his driver and tamps down on a wave of irritation. His driver—someone by the name of Jaemin Na—is late. Normally Donghyuck is the last one to be concerned about punctuality, but if this Jaemin guy had stood him up, not only would Donghyuck be pissed but he would also be royally fucked. 9AM on a Saturday morning after Finals week—there would hardly be anyone else on campus anymore.

After another twenty increasingly frantic minutes and Donghyuck's decided that he's just about desperate enough to start checking Travelocity flight fares, a sleek black Audi pulls into the parking lot. Donghyuck lets out a breath. His bank account might have been saved this time, but most definitely not his patience. The car parks, amplified further when the driver throws open the door and steps out in worn Vans and Top Shop joggers, looking for all the world uncaring of Donghyuck's precious time. His lip curls up in distaste, but he walks forward anyway.

Jaemin shakes back faded pink hair that is going brassy and eyes him up and down. "Are you Donghyuck?"

Donghyuck scowls. "Yeah," he says, setting his duffle down next to him and giving him his best annoyed glare. "You're late."

"Sorry." Jaemin doesn't sound very sorry at all. He holds out his hand. "Payment upfront."

Donghyuck slaps a twenty into Jaemin's outstretched palm before stooping to pick up his bag. "Can we leave now?"

Jaemin gives the bill a dirty look and scoffs. "I'm hauling your ass four hundred miles up north and you really think _ twenty's _ enough for gas?"

Donghyuck bristles for a moment—who the hell does this guy think he is? Fuck his nice car and stupid pink hair, fuck _him_ for thinking he can just strip Donghyuck's wallet dry when _ Jaemin's _ the one who had put twenty on his rideshare post. Whatever. He is _ not _ about to let this Jaemin guy keep him from blithely third wheeling Mark and Jeno. _ Whatever_.

Donghyuck swears low under his breath and throws his duffle unceremoniously into the trunk, taking some small pride in the annoyance that flares up on Jaemin's face. "How's this," he says sweetly, opening up the passenger's side and plopping down. "Get me there alive and I'll throw in another ten."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and starts up his car. "Fine, but two rules. One, no fingers on the dashboard, and two, we're listening to _ my _ music."

The low bass of a shitty EDM song suddenly fills the car, and Donghyuck is half tempted to thunk his forehead against the window, if only to delight in Jaemin's horror at whatever oil smudge he'd leave behind.

_ if i commit murder in the next six hours, plz bail me out of jail_, Donghyuck texts Mark furiously.

_ damn haha_, comes Mark's reply. _ that's a longass ride _

  
"How was break?" Renjun asks in lieu of greeting, not even looking up from his cereal when Donghyuck stumbles out of his room, half-asleep. He hadn't even heard Renjun come in last night, but that's unsurprising, considering that he'd passed out in bed just shy of midnight.  
  
"Fucking exhausting," Donghyuck grumbles. "You know how tiring it is to third wheel Mark and Jeno when they're in their honeymoon phase?"  
  
"Okay," Renjun says, completely unsympathetic, as Donghyuck edges behind him to rifle through their cupboards. "You kind of knew that before you decided to crash their sweetheart winter vacation."  
  
"Excuse you," Donghyuck retorts, kicking behind him at Renjun's chair. "It's Jeno who technically crashed _ our _ plans. Mark and I had this planned for half a year now."  
  
Renjun snorts and stands up from the table, already dressed for class. "Maybe you should have thought of that before introducing the two of them."  
  
Donghyuck groans, catching Renjun before he can dump the rest of his cereal down the sink. "God, I hate when you're right, what the fuck was I thinking? Even _ I _ had a crush on Mark in freshman year. Christ."  
  
"Yeah," Renjun says, smirking as he throws his bag over his shoulder. "God, I'm so glad that's over. That was embarrassing."

For a moment, Donghyuck frowns, allowing the reminder of freshman year to temporarily dig in its barbs before brushing it off. He supposes that a part of him will always feel just a little bit bitter, but the better part of him just mostly wants to forget it.  
  
"Fuck off," Donghyuck says mildly, but Renjun just laughs.  
  
"I'm heading out," he says, toeing into his shoes. "Did you turn in your PAA apps? They're due—"  
  
"Friday by 4pm, yeah yeah, I know," Donghyuck says, settling in to eat the remains of Renjun's soggy cereal, and thinks about his applications sitting in a pile on his desk. He knows that Renjun had probably expected him to have forgotten, but this time Renjun is wrong. Donghyuck actually had had them filled out and ready since the end of last quarter, but he doesn't tell Renjun that. The slowly brewing pit at the bottom of his stomach—Donghyuck won't tell Renjun about that either.

Donghyuck stirs his spoon around. "Did you turn in yours already?"  
  
Renjun pauses for a moment in their doorway. "Sort of," he says, with his hand on the door knob. "Still deciding on whether I should apply with Humanities or not."

It is just like Renjun, Donghyuck thinks, to have this sort of problem. To be more concerned with _ where _ he'll apply, _ which _ offer he'll take, than with whether or not he even _ should _ apply, or if he'd even be good enough. But Renjun's always been this way—ruthlessly certain in himself and his abilities. That's something Donghyuck can't spite him for, no matter how much he wants to. And, for a second, a familiar resentment fills him, almost makes him retort with something hurtful, something unfairly vicious that will cut all of Renjun's easy confidence down. And Donghyuck _ knows _ how—two years of being Renjun's friend has armed him with intimate knowledge of all of Renjun's well-hidden insecurities. Knows what words to pick that will slice the deepest, if he wanted them to.

But he doesn't. 

Donghyuck takes a breath, pushes the urge down, locks it away. That's the side of himself that he doesn't like to think about, the Donghyuck that was accepted off the waitlist, the Donghyuck who came in hopeless and listless and majorless, the Donghyuck that wanted to quit school after only a brutal month in. He almost did too, if it hadn't been for Renjun. Renjun, who—for all his straight A's, double-major in Art History and Business, and coveted spot in the Honors program—has never made him feel bad for his grades, for his insecurities, for feeling lost. Donghyuck licks his lips and glances back up at his best friend.  
  
"You're already applying to three offices, what's another one?" Donghyuck says, sipping the last of the milk. "Just do it, you fuck. You've earned it, after all."

The momentary hesitation on Renjun's face dissipates, and he nods. "Right," he says dryly. "I'll be sure to keep those illustrious words of wisdom in mind."

Donghyuck throws a napkin at him. "Go to class."  
  
Renjun levels a rakish grin at him before leaving.

Applying for the Peer Advising Program had originally been Renjun's idea. In fact, Donghyuck had been vehemently opposed to it. 

"What gives you the idea that I'd want to spend my entire senior year advising weepy little freshmen on their classes when I can be doing something much more worth my time?" Donghyuck had complained, throwing the pamphlet back in Renjun's face.

Renjun hadn't even been fazed, just wriggled his bony ass onto Donghyuck's bed next to him and gave him a sharp jab in the ribs.

"_Ow— _"

"In case you've forgotten," Renjun had pointed out. "You used to be one of those weepy little freshmen, Donghyuck." His voice had been gentle but firm, and Donghyuck heaved a sigh.

"Is this about giving back or some shit like that?" Donghyuck rolled onto his stomach, raising an eyebrow up at Renjun. "You severely overestimate my ability to be a good person."

"Just think about it," said Renjun, tucking the pamplet into the back of Donghyuck's sweatshirt. "If anything, it'll look good on your resume. And—" Renjun said pointedly. "Don't get mad when me _ and _ Jeno are busy and productive next year when all you're doing is sitting on your ass."

And if Renjun's intention had been to bait him via competition, then it had worked. From the moment Donghyuck had met him—a scrawny wisp of a boy standing outside their shared dorm room—Renjun had always known exactly what to say to motivate him. It's been as infuriating as it has been gratifying, knowing that Renjun would always be able to light a fire under him with whatever means necessary.

Now, Donghyuck squints up at the building in front of him, neatly stapled application packet in hand. His heart is going far too fast for his own liking, and even Donghyuck knows that this shouldn't be as nerve-wracking as it feels. He's been to the advisors in Social Sciences a couple of times, but never for something as important and critical as this. Despite himself, he's nervous. Ridiculous, really. He _has_ the GPA and the extracurriculars—he'd just spent an entire summer volunteering as part of the orientation staff to chauffeur lost freshmen to and from the various info sessions and their summer dormitories. It had cost him the chance to spend the summer in China with Renjun, but Donghyuck counts it as a loss worth the price.

Donghyuck pushes open the door to the Social Sciences advising office. He's not expecting another body so immediately after the doors, and Donghyuck scowls, glaring up at whoever had the audacity to run into him.

"Are you _blind_—" But Donghyuck's words die in his throat as soon as he realizes who he's about tear into. 

Jaemin scoffs and smooths a hand over his shirt. "Definitely not expecting to run into you here. You owe me ten dollars still."

Donghyuck crosses his arms, stepping to the side to get around him, but Jaemin blocks his way. "What are _ you _ doing here?"

"Seeing my advisors," Jaemin answers, raising an eyebrow. "Considering that I am a student in this school—some of us do take advantage of campus resources, you know."

Even despite his best efforts, Donghyuck feels himself redden, and he shoves bodily past Jaemin towards the Student Affairs office. "Go fuck your car, Jaemin."

Jaemin's laugh echoes behind him. "My car would be lucky."

"Asshole," Donghyuck mutters, before throwing on his best smile to the advisor at the front.

"Hi," she says, tapping an inbox tray with neatly manicured nails. "Turning in your application?"

"Yeah," Donghyuck says, pulling out a stapled packet from his bag, the first page emblazoned with the words _Peer Academic Advisor Application - School of Social Sciences._ He draws in a breath and hands it over. Donghyuck's not religious, but he'll pray to whatever deity or divine being for luck now. 

It takes some time after that, but, slowly and over the next few weeks, the interview calls begin coming in. To no one's surprise, Renjun ends up getting interviews with all the offices he applied to. But—miraculously—so does Donghyuck. He had somewhat been expecting to interview with the office of Undeclared advising, but the call from Social Sciences had caught him embarrassingly off-guard, standing outside the lecture hall for his behavior psychology lecture with his phone on speaker, while he frantically swiped through his calendar app to schedule his interview time. (Renjun, who religiously uses a planner, would not have had this problem. Donghyuck, however, truly cannot be fucked to write things down.)

But, ultimately, Renjun is right: it's very easy to put Jaemin out of his mind as he scrambles to prepare for both of them, frantically scribbling out notecards and nagging Renjun to practice with him until ungodly hours of the morning.

"I don't know what you're worried about," Renjun says, through a very badly stifled yawn, and rubs at his eyes. It's already past midnight, and Donghyuck's interview with Social Sciences is tomorrow at ten. Renjun has been going over potential interview questions with him for the past few hours, and it's clear that the hour is taking its toll on him. "I mean, you clearly have the qualifications."

"Just because you've got all four offers in the bag doesn't mean the rest of us don't have to stress," Donghyuck snaps, and then immediately regrets it. Luckily, when he looks up to glance guiltily at Renjun, Renjun looks entirely nonplussed. "Sorry," Donghyuck mutters. "I just—" He swallows. "Aren't you nervous at all?"

"Of course I am," Renjun says, and it's then that Donghyuck can hear the exhaustion in his voice. Guiltily, he remembers that Renjun has an interview tomorrow, too, with the School of Business. "It's normal to be nervous."

Donghyuck sighs and finally closes his notebook. "You don't seem like it."

"I'm good at hiding it," Renjun tells him, standing up from his chair. "That's one of my strengths. And you—you're good at thinking on your feet. That's one of _ your _ strengths."

Renjun, once again, has a point—what Donghyuck might lack in the organizational department, he more than makes up for with his unfailing ability to improvise. It's one of his qualities that had repeatedly landed him in trouble during high school, but in college, it's also saved his ass one too many times. Donghyuck exhales noisily, setting his head down on the table with a groan, and tries not to think about it. "Well? Don't stop here—keep going."

"Go to bed," Renjun chides, rolling his eyes, and pads off to his room. "You'll be fine. If there's one thing I know for certain, it's that."

Forty minutes later, Donghyuck stares up at the ceiling of his room, wide awake. It's one thing for Renjun to say that it'll be fine, like things haven't been going right for him from the moment he'd stepped on this campus. It's quite another thing for Donghyuck—who's been bullshitting his way through college since day one, putting everything he has out on the table and falling back on his charm when it's not enough, who's collecting every single scrap of fear, resentment, and bitterness that's threatened to break the surface, and carefully laying them down in secret walls like so many bricks—to make himself believe it.

Donghyuck wakes up very suddenly, sitting bolt upright in bed as if he hadn't even gone to sleep at all. For a disoriented moment, Donghyuck frowns at the pile of dirty laundry spilling out of his hamper onto the floor, before reality slams into him full force. A quick glance at his phone is all he needed to know that he'd accidentally overslept and now had exactly twenty minutes to get to his interview. Luckily, Donghyuck's perfected the art of getting dressed and rushing out of an apartment in record time, and by some miracle he manages to make it to the Social Sciences advising office with five minutes to spare.

The front desk assistant nods at him when he shows up, panting and slightly out of breath. "They're already waiting in the conference room for you," she tells him.

Donghyuck swallows and nods. "Thanks," he says, smoothing back his hair. He turns away from the front desk for a moment, closing his eyes to collect himself. He _ had _ this. He just needed to go in and wow the interview panel with his winning charm and resume (maybe not as impressive as Renjun's, but Donghyuck would work with what he has). 

When he finally pushes open the door to the interview room, the last person he's expecting to be sitting in the second chair in front of the assistant director is Jaemin, but there he is in a cleanly pressed button down, his fading pink hair combed back neatly. Donghyuck bites back a curse, turning instead to their interviewer for a handshake.

"We were almost worried you weren't going to show," she says with a tight smile, and Donghyuck gives her an apologetic grin. "Especially with such an impressive resume. But it's good that you're both here."

The comment fills him with a sense of momentary pride, mentally thanking Renjun for last minute resume bolstering. "I'm so sorry about that," he says easily, taking his seat next to Jaemin while doing his best to avoid any eye contact with him. "I'm truly so thankful for this opportunity, I assure you."

The interviewer gives them both another stiff smile, before shuffling the papers in front of her. "Well, I've reviewed both of your qualifications. Now this is what I want to know—what do you think would make you a good peer advisor for our office?"

Donghyuck had been fully prepared for this question, but Jaemin beats him to it.

"Well, Social Sciences Student Affairs advises students in any Social Sciences major, right?" 

Donghyuck tries his best to hide his scowl. Jaemin has an infuriatingly pleasing voice when he's not being a bastard. "I think anyone could've drawn that conclusion," he mutters, unable to help himself.

Jaemin gives him a sharp glance, brows drawing together just slightly. "I was just going to say that I think I'm very qualified to advise the students here because I've been in Social Sciences since I was a freshman. Almost three years of experience with all the programs and resources here—" Jaemin continues smoothly, even as Donghyuck stiffens up next to him. Bastard, bastard, bastard. "I would say that's definitely advantage, compared to, say, someone who's only been here for—what—a year?"

And of course this is the nerve that Jaemin chooses to hit—out of all the other sore spots whose bruises have just faded, it's this one that Jaemin aims for, goes straight for the jugular. Almost as if he'd known that Donghyuck starting off undeclared is the one thing he's struggled to put behind him, the soft spot on his crown. 

Donghyuck lets himself close his eyes for a second, hands curling into fists under the table, before letting an easy smile slide onto his face.

"I agree with Jaemin," he says, looking straight at their interviewer. She arches one manicured eyebrow, and Donghyuck continues. "There's definitely an advantage to sticking to one field for that long. Perhaps it's admirable, even." Donghyuck feels Jaemin shift uncomfortably next to him, and he sucks in a breath.

"But I think that there's another perspective I can bring," Donghyuck says, sitting up straighter. "That changing your mind doesn't always have to be a bad thing. That it's okay to try something new. That it's okay to fail, because failure won't define you."  
  
The interviewer is giving him a soft, supportive smile. "Would you, perhaps, be speaking from experience?"

Donghyuck exhales slowly. This is the cut that had taken the longest to heal, his shame of feeling _ undecided_, _ lost_, _ unprepared_. Donghyuck remembers failing midterms in classes he thought he would love, remembers signing a contract for his grades. Donghyuck remembers crying in Renjun's room at two in the morning with a withdrawal form clutched in his hands, certain that his admission had surely been a mistake. He remembers the people who'd reached out their hands to hold him steady, pull him upright, push him forward. How each wavering step had been easier than the last. He smiles down at his resume, at where the words _ Bachelor of Arts, Psychology _ winked up at him in italic type.

"Yes, definitely," Donghyuck says, and rolls his shoulders back, holds his head up high. "I think I would like to tell you about it."

"I'm so fucking _ pissed_," Donghyuck seethes, slamming the fridge door shut with such force he can hear the dishes rattling behind it. "God, I'm so—I'm so _ pissed— _"

"Does that mean you tanked it?" Renjun asks, not even looking up from where he's idly flipping through his notes. When Donghyuck burst through the door, Renjun had been sitting at their kitchen table, dressed impeccably for his afternoon interview with the School of Business. "Maybe I should have set an alarm for you."

"No, fuck you, it was fine—" Donghyuck snaps, moving onto the pantry next. He throws the doors open, glares uselessly at the packages of instant foods they'd both accumulated over the course of a few months, slams the pantry shut too. "I just—" Donghyuck brings his fists down on the countertop. "God, _ fuck— _"

Renjun sighs loudly, closing his notebook. "Okay, what happened? Something must have happened to put you in such a foul mood, so what is it? Come on."

"_Jaemin_," Donghyuck hisses, as if that's explanation enough. "Fucking—Jaemin and his stupid everything—he was in my fucking interview." 

To his dismay, this news does not immediately propel Renjun into an appropriately supportive fury, as Donghyuck would have expected, because Renjun only stares at him blankly. 

Donghyuck crosses his arms. "Do you know who I'm talking about?"

"No I don't, Donghyuck," Renjun says, exasperated. "I don't keep track of all your one night stands—"

"The carpool, you bitch. The stupid prick with the Audi."

"_Oh_—" Renjuns face brightens with recognition. "The one who tried to pull a fast one on you?"

"Of course Jaemin has to be a cog sci major," Donghyuck hisses, throwing down his bag angrily. "Of course he has to be applying to be a peer advisor the same year we are."

"I mean," Renjun says dryly. "Junior year is typically when most students apply to be PAAs."

"Shut up," Donghyuck groans. "Ugh, he's such an asshole. He totally threw me under the bus in front of the interviewer about being undeclared. Like that's such a terrible thing."

Something cold touches the back of his neck, and Donghyuck yelps, leaning forward with a startle. Renjun grins at him, holding out an icy can of milk tea. "We've been through this, Donghyuck. No one gives a shit about what you came in with, as long as you graduate. This Jaemin guy just sounds like he was feeling threatened. I bet you killed it."

"I _ did _ kill it," Donghyuck mutters, taking the milk tea from him. "He'll probably just get booted to the stupid mentor program or whatever. Whatever. Sucks for him."

Renjun laughs, squeezing his shoulder. "Forget about Jaemin. You're probably never going to see him again."

"Yeah," Donghyuck agrees, tossing up a smirk. "Fuck him and his Cog Sci ass."

If Renjun had been planning on making a smartass reply to that, he's interrupted by his phone buzzing with a text message from—Donghyuck checks the screen—Jisung. A smile spreads over his face, his rage for Jaemin pleasantly forgotten. 

At Renjun's nagging last year, Donghyuck had begrudgingly signed up to take part in the mentorship program for the Undeclared office ("_Please_ put something on this resume before I go insane—"), and Donghyuck had been paired up with Jisung, one of the freshmen who had come in as Undeclared this past fall. As much as he claimed to have hated it, Donghyuck had immediately taken a liking to Jisung's awkward mess of gangly limbs and shy, uncertain smile.

_ hi,_ Jisung's message reads, do_ you think we can meet up soon >_< _

"What are you smiling at?" Renjun asks from over his shoulder as he puts his dishes in the sink.

"Jisung's asking to meet me," Donghyuck replies loftily, sending back a quick response. "You know, my precious and beloved mentee."

Renjun scoffs. "Wow, that's kind of pretentious isn't it? You took him to lunch like—what—twice?"

"Fuck you, this was your idea in the first place," Donghyuck retorts, pretending to throw a glass at him. "And besides—Jisung is a lost little freshman who needs my fountain of wisdom and knowledge."

He's expecting Renjun to snark something back, but when none comes, Donghyuck glances back at him. Renjun is watching him with a rare, tender smile on his face, and Donghyuck feels himself go red.

"What?"

Renjun doesn't answer right away, grabbing his bag and slipping into his dress shoes by the door. "You know," he says, hoisting his bag strap onto his shoulder. "You're always doubting that you've earned this, but you have."

Donghyuck swallows, watching Renjun fold his blazer neatly over his arm. Compliments like this always unsettle him—they always feel foreign in his ears, like they must be directed to somebody else. "I don't like when you're nice to me," he mutters.

"I don't either," Renjun says, amused. "But—Donghyuck—you are more than capable. If you don't kill your next interview too, I'll be really surprised."

And Donghyuck doesn't need to hear this from Renjun to know that he's right, because Renjun is only one person in a world that's waiting for them both to fail. Because life isn't fair—life is about hacking forward with whatever he has, hopes that it'll be good enough, that the bravado he puts on won't get yanked off like a second skin to expose the raw, ugly bits underneath, the fear that he truly might not be good enough.

Donghyuck doesn't need Renjun to tell him this, but somehow, it makes it all that much easier to believe.

His interview with the Undeclared office does—in fact—go notably better, but Donghyuck suspects that's mainly due to the fact that he didn't oversleep and that he didn't have Jaemin to contend with. To top it off, the interviewer is one of his counselors from when he was a first year, which is several points in his favor already. She greets him warmly, gushes over how well Donghyuck's done, how proud she is of him. The poor girl who had the misfortune of being put in the same interview as him truly had no chance, and Donghyuck had almost felt bad when he walked out of there forty five minutes later. _ Almost. _

All four of Renjun's offers come in very quickly after that, one after another, and Donghyuck spends a rare Tuesday morning trying to talk Renjun down from his caffeine-induced high (Renjun normally steers far from coffee for this very reason) while he grapples with the dilemma of which offer he'll accept (Honors, which Donghyuck had already suspected Renjun would pick from the get go). Jeno texts him a couple days later to let him know that he would be joining the Bio Sci peers, and then—finally—Donghyuck's old counselor calls him with an offer from Undeclared.

Renjun is with him when he gets the call, promptly breaking out the gin the moment Donghyuck hangs up, and they both drink themselves stupid in celebration of their upcoming state of employedness for next year. Eventually, Renjun leaves at two in the morning to take care of business (read: one Dejun Xiao from the Chinese Students and Scholars Association), and Donghyuck drunk texts everyone in his contact list about his good news.

Even still—it's hard to not feel just a little bit disappointed that he'd only gotten the one offer, especially when living with someone like Renjun. But Donghyuck's trying extra hard to keep that side of him out of sight, out of mind, until he's ready to deal with those feelings later.

He's in the campus food court between classes a few days later, settling down to tuck into a bowl of Panda Express, when he ends up running into Jisung completely by accident.

"Hyung," says a voice behind him as he's just about to start eating, and Donghyuck turns around to see Jisung holding a trayful of Wendy's, eyes wide and anxious. "Hi—sorry, I saw you were sitting alone—can I sit with you?"

Donghyuck gives him a smile, moving his bag from the other chair to make room for Jisung. "Haven't seen you since Fall. How was break?"

Jisung grips his tray tighter, plopping himself into the newly-vacated seat and attempting to settle in all his gangly limbs. "It was good—I went back to Korea with my brother. It's so _ cold _there, hyung."

"Jisung," Donghyuck cuts him off with a stiff smile, reaching over to nab one of his fries. "I've told you already, you don't need to call me that—just—it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Jisung blinks at him, biting his lip. "Sorry—I guess I'm just so used to it."

Donghyuck steals another one of his french fries. "Classes going okay this quarter?"

Jisung makes a face. "I don't know if I'm good at Physics."

"Then you probably shouldn't be taking Physics," Donghyuck chides, leaning forward. "Jisung, stop trying to kill yourself with STEM courses. You were fine last quarter when you were doing Sociology."

Jisung flushes deeply, hanging his head. "I know, I just—someone else suggested that I try STEM, and I thought it might be a good idea. You know, _financially lucrative_—"

"Well, I hope that _someone_ is qualified to be giving you advice," Donghyuck huffs, spearing a piece of teriyaki chicken on his chopsticks, and Jisung brightens.

"Oh yeah, you're gonna be a PA for Undeclared next year, right?" Jisung leans forward anxiously, his eyes wide and hopeful. "Then I can just start going to you for advising!"

Donghyuck heaves a heavy sigh. "That's probably what's going to happen. It's my only offer right now. I was gonna call them tomorrow."

Jisung bites at his lip. "I'm glad that you got it. Is that bad? It's just easier knowing that there'll be someone I'm comfortable with next year."

Donghyuck barks out a laugh. "Jisung, that's selfish," he teases, his smirk growing wider when Jisung flushes. "Hoping for my failures just for your own benefit? I am _so_ proud of you—"

"No—" Jisung stammers, but Donghyuck is cackling now. "That's not what I meant—"

Jisung's babbling is interrupted by Donghyuck's phone ringing. It's a campus number, but not one he recognizes. "Hold on a second," Donghyuck says. "Hello?"

"Hi," says the voice on the other end. "Is this Donghyuck Lee?"

"Yes?" Donghyuck clears his throat, frowning down at his rice bowl. "I mean, yes, this is him."

"Hi Donghyuck, this is Katrina calling from Social Sciences." Donghyuck drops his chopsticks, sitting up straight in his chair. "We've just finished reviewing our final candidates, and I'm very pleased to offer you the Peer Advisor position!"

Donghyuck's mind whites out like TV screen, and Jisung swallows down his coke noisily. "Hyung?" he whispers. "Is everything okay?"

"Donghyuck, are you still there?" Katrina's voice jolts him back to the conversation, and Donghyuck shakes himself out of it. "Would you like to accept the offer?"

"Hi Katrina," Donghyuck says in a breathless rush. "Hi, yes, that's so great to hear!"

"You haven't accepted any other offers from other units, right?"

"Of course not," Donghyuck says breezily, thinking of the offer from Undeclared he had been so close to taking. "No, I definitely accept the Social Sciences offer, thank you so much."

"Wonderful to hear!" Katrina rattles off some details that Donghyuck doesn't really care about, watching Jisung squirm in his chair. "I'll send you the official offer via your student email, as well as important dates for you to come in to sign the paperwork."

"Great," he says, putting on his widest smile even though she can't see him. "And thank you again."

"What happened, hyung?" Jisung's eyes are wide and confused. "Did something happen?"

Donghyuck doesn't bother correcting him this time, and just gives him a broad grin. "I got the job!"

"With Social Sciences?" Jisung's face is quietly crestfallen, and Donghyuck takes one look at him before reaching out to grasp his hands.

"Jisung," Donghyuck tells him gently. "I know it would've been really cool to be a peer advisor while you were still undeclared, but that doesn't mean you can't come ask me for help, okay?"

Jisung nods glumly before offering up a small smile. "Congratulations, though. You really deserve it."

And Donghyuck is grateful for the affirmation—even if it is from Jisung—because after all this time, he still has doubts that he truly does.

The rest of Winter quarter passes quickly after that. Donghyuck busies himself in his studies, and after his last final, he hops on the next train and goes home for the first time since the start of the school year. 

His mom and sister pick him up at the train station, his sister playfully commenting on the weight gain in his face and Donghyuck trying to wave off all well-intentioned nagging questions from his mother about what he was planning to do with his summer. It's easier to not think about the future when he's spending most of his days reading webtoons on his phone in his childhood bedroom and occasionally bribing his sister to bring him ice pops from the freezer. 

On the day before he goes back to campus, Donghyuck gets a phone call from Johnny, his neighbor while growing up. Donghyuck had spent much of his junior high years nursing a painfully embarrassing crush on Johnny that had thankfully dissipated after he had left for college. He's in a PhD program now, Donghyuck had learned, after Johnny reached out to him through Facebook last year, but now Johnny's back in their hometown and asking to meet up for lunch. His treat. 

Donghyuck is never one to turn down a free meal, and Johnny texts him the address of a local diner, where Donghyuck's sister drops him off.

Johnny is still devastatingly handsome, but luckily Donghyuck is too preoccupied with other worries to be concerned about his childhood crush coming back in full force.

"You look like shit," Donghyuck says conversationally, dipping his sandwich into his soup bowl. "How's the PhD coming?"

"Questionably," Johnny says, laughing. "But I've been making progress with my dissertation."

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, taking a careful sip of his soda. "Anything you'll get famous for? Don't forget your fiendishly handsome underling whom you personally coached to success."

Johnny laughs again. "You'll be a senior soon."

"That's next year," Donghyuck huffs. "I still have another quarter. My schedule's all upper-divs, fucking kill me."

"Do you have anything new going on?" 

Donghyuck pauses, setting down his sandwich carefully. "I—yeah, actually."

Johnny laces his fingers together, peering at him over his hands. "Oh? What is it?"

"I applied to be a peer advisor." Donghyuck swallows, unsure why this small admission about himself makes him feel so unnaturally open and vulnerable. Donghyuck isn't used to putting his goals and ambitions out there for others to dissect and analyze. "You know—like the students who work with the academic counselors."

Johnny almost drops the fry that he's holding, blinking. "You? A peer advisor?"

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. "Come on, don't act like that's such a stretch for me—"

"No, no," Johnny says, his face breaking into a wide grin. "It's not that, I just never imagined that you would want to be—wait, did you get the position?"

Donghyuck stirs his soda slowly with his straw, studying the grain of the table. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Yeah, I got it."

Johnny's eyes soften. "I remember when you were just a kid. You used to hate going to anyone for help. Remember that one time you fractured your shin and didn't tell anyone just because you were embarrassed?"

"Shut up—" Donghyuck mumbles, but a slow smile curls up his lips, and he glances up to see Johnny grinning at him. "I hate when you bring that up."

Johnny's smile grows even broader. "Look at you now, Donghyuck. That cute, stubborn smartass of a kid now a peer advisor." 

"You make me sound like I was such a brat," Donghyuck huffs.

Johnny chuckles. "That's 'cause you were."

Donghyuck swallows. "Do you think I'd be good at it?" He glances up to Johnny again, who'd he long admired even when he was young, for the way that Johnny would always give so much of himself. Donghyuck had used to wonder what was like, to be so selfless with his service and kindness.

"I think you'd be perfect," Johnny says gently. "I know you don't like hearing this, but you have such a big heart, Donghyuck."

"Don't. I have a reputation to maintain," Donghyuck mutters, but he can't quite hide his smile.

When Donghyuck returns to campus, Renjun's temper seems to have taken on a new life of its own, bitching furiously about his new Spring class schedule as he does every single quarter.

"It's not my fault you have to take like a million units a quarter," Donghyuck says, watching Renjun kneeling on the floor of his room, furiously shoving textbooks into his school bag. "That's what you get for being an honors student."

Renjun flips him off before straightening up. "I'm taking twenty-two units, not a million, okay? And it would've been fine if I wasn't losing two hours every week to training."

"Yeah, yeah, well you're not the only one complaining. And we better get going unless you want Yerim on our asses about being late."

Unfortunately, Yerim's wrath isn't the only thing they'd have to worry about if they were late. Before officially beginning their paid positions in the summer, all incoming peer advisors would be required to attend training every Thursday night to learn campus wide policies, become more acquainted with campus resources, and get to know each other better. While they'd all been introduced to Yerim, this year's Peer Advisor Coordinator, Donghyuck has yet to meet the other peers in Social Sciences.

"How many of you are there for Honors?" Donghyuck asks him as they make the walk over to the building where training was located. Luckily, they don't live too far from campus so it's only about a fifteen minute walk.

"Three," Renjun says. "And I already know Yiren and Linong because of Honors events. What about Social Sciences? Don't you guys have a fuckton?"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, pushing open the door to the lecture hall. "That's what I keep hearing, but I haven't met any of them yet—" He takes a brief look around as they walk in, then promptly freezes in the doorway.

Renjun runs into him with a displeased grunt. "What gives? Stop blocking the doorway."

But he's barely paying any mind to Renjun, all his attention focused on the other end of the lecture hall where, presumably, the other Social Science peers were sitting. Donghyuck recognizes Eunbin from one of his psych classes, but next to him— 

"Oh my god," Donghyuck moans, his stomach immediately flying up to tangle itself with his esophagus as he watches Jaemin gives Eunbin an extremely attractive smile. "What the fuck—how the _ fuck _ did he even get an offer?"

"What?" Renjun drags them both out of the way of the door, following his gaze to where Donghyuck is gaping stupidly like a fish. The corners of Renjun's mouth immediately curl up, and Donghyuck _ knows _ that look. 

"Shut up, for the love of god—whatever you're about to say, just shut up—"

"So _ that's _ Jaemin?" Renjun's smile is entirely too predatory for Donghyuck's comfort. "Oh, I _ see_."

Donghyuck crosses his arms defensively. "What's that supposed to mean? Why are you looking at him like you want to eat him?"

Renjun snorts. "Relax," he says mildly. "He's good looking, but he's not my type."

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. "Your type being… completely willing to bend over backwards for you?" He's mostly thinking of Dejun, whom, recently, Donghyuck's seen Renjun bring back to his room at least twice a week since last quarter. Dejun is very handsome and very acquiescent, if the sounds that Donghyuck once had the misfortune of overhearing are anything to go by.

Renjun levels a shit-eating grin at him. "More like bend over forward, but I'm not picky."

Donghyuck's scandalized scoff is lost on Renjun when one of the other Honors PAAs pull him over to their section. Out of the corner of his eyes, Donghyuck sees Jeno wave at him from where he's sitting with the Bio Sci peers, and Donghyuck deigns to wave back at him before sitting down in the two rows reserved for Social Sciences. He takes care to sit as far away from Jaemin as possible.

A lanky-limbed boy immediately plops down in the chair next to him. "Hi," he says cheerfully. "Social Sciences?"

"Hi," Donghyuck says, pulling out his training binder. "I guess I didn't realize there would be so many of us."

The boy nods placidly, before craning his neck to take a peek at the front of Donghyuck's binder. "Oh, you're Donghyuck?"

"Can I help you?" Donghyuck crinkles his nose at him.

The boy grins, showing off an impressive amount of teeth. "I'm Yangyang. You're Renjun's roommate, right?"

Donghyuck shrugs. "You know Renjun?"

Yangyang nods enthusiastically. "We're in CSSA together. What's your major?"

"Psych," Donghyuck mutters, half expecting another derisive comment, but Yangyang only looks delighted.

"Oh, that's cool. I tried Intro to Psych freshman year, but there was too much reading—"

"Intro to Psych? I took that class."

Donghyuck cannot stop himself from grimacing at the familiar voice, turning around to glare at Jaemin, who had settled in the row behind them.

"Did you now?" Donghyuck says, between his teeth. To his displeasure, Yangyang appears to have no qualms with this new seating development.

"Oooh," Yangyang says, turning around in earnest. "When you'd take it?"

"Last year." Jaemin crosses his legs and leaning back as far as the lecture hall seat would let him. Donghyuck has to remind himself that getting himself kicked out of the PAA program for killing someone on the first day would probably not make a very strong entry on his resume, but the all too smug smile on Jaemin's face is making it extremely difficult. "The only really interesting bit was when it went more into neurobiology. Otherwise I'm not that sold on Psychology as a science."

"Good thing you're not majoring in it," Donghyuck retorts and turns around, expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

Jaemin, unfortunately, doesn't seem to get the message. "Oh, but you are, right? What exactly are you even supposed to do with Psychology?"

Donghyuck stares back at Jaemin, feeling all his usual honey-daggered comebacks dissolving on his tongue. The truth is that Donghyuck still doesn't have an answer to that question. He'd told himself that he still had time, but now—with senior year just a quarter and a summer away—all of the impending pressure and anxiety Donghyuck had managed to lock away is suddenly back and clawing at the inside of his chest, looping its ugly coils around all of his ribs. And Donghyuck doesn't owe anybody any kind of justification for his major choice—especially not Jaemin, who for whatever reason only seems intent on riling up Donghyuck as much as possible—but Donghyuck's lack of a response jars him deep to his bones, flushes his face hot with embarrassment. He hates not having an answer for anything, hates how his stunned silences is making it look like Jaemin is right. He's not—he's _ not_. Jaemin can keep going off about his degree, but it doesn't make him right. Donghyuck _ knows _ this, yet—

He clenches his jaw, swallowing hard over the sour taste in his mouth, and forces himself to turn back around to face the front of the lecture hall, where Yerim had just taken the podium to introduce their program director. Jaemin doesn't say anything for the rest of that evening—whether or not it's the smugness that's keeping him quiet, Donghyuck doesn't know nor does he care. But then the director begins to speak, and then Donghyuck tunes it all out.

As if losing two hours a week to training wasn't already bad enough, Yerim informs them at the end of the first evening that they'd all also be expected to do a minimum of ten training hours in their individual academic units. Donghyuck gets the email from his supervisor in Social Sciences about two days later, requesting all Social Sciences peers to come into the office in rotating shifts to shadow the current peer advisors and get a sense for the environment, while learning policies specific to their school. Donghyuck is not particularly pleased about the idea of having to spend extra time with Jaemin.

The first in-unit session is during week three, so Donghyuck heads over to the Social Sciences Gateway after his midday class and is greeted by some of the staff. For the most part, the briefing is bearably short and consists mostly of showing Donghyuck the peer cubicles where he'd ostensibly doing most of his advising in the next year, as well as a quick tour of the office. 

Donghyuck sets his bag down on the closest chair, moving over to stand next to Chaewon. "Was it like this last year?" he mutters. Chaewon smirks.

"They just like to scare you the first day, but it's pretty chill. Mostly Zoe will just be going over some office rules."

Jaemin sits down next to Donghyuck, craning his neck over to peer at Donghyuck's textbook.

"Do you need something?" Donghyuck hisses, pulling his textbook closer to him.

"So, psych?" Something about Jaemin's voice doesn't sit well with Donghyuck, and he tenses.

"What about it?"

Jaemin leans back in his chair, shrugging. "I mean, if you're going to do psych, why not do something actually worth the while?"

Donghyuck grits his teeth. "Like what—Cognitive Science? That shit's basically the same thing, don't even start."

"Psychology is _ not _ the same as Cognitive Science," Jaemin says, scowling. "Psych is basically just watered down Cog Sci. All the theory without the application."

"Are you done?" Donghyuck snaps, turning away from him.

Unfortunately, Jaemin continues to rattle on. "All I'm saying is that Psych is a B.A., and Cog Sci is a B.S. You can do the math."

Donghyuck doesn't even grace that with a response, gathering up all his things and promptly moving to the cubicle next to Yangyang.

Yangyang offers up a bright smile when Donghyuck sits down next to him. "Hi! First day of in-unit training—"

"You don't think Psych is a waste of time, right?" Donghyuck asks brusquely.

Yangyang gives him a confused look and shakes his head.

Donghyuck sighs, pulling out his notebook. "Okay, good. I'm sitting next to you." And that's that.

The moment they're dismissed, Donghyuck grabs his bag almost immediately to high tail it out of there, completely certain he'd murder Jaemin and get fired before the quarter ended. 

What he is not expecting, however, is to walk outside of the building and see Jisung standing there, absorbed in one of his phone games.

"Jisung," Donghyuck calls to him, beckoning him over. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you have class this late?"

Jisung shakes his head, pocketing his phone. "I was studying at the library. Just waiting for a friend to drive me home."

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow and looks around. "Waiting _ here_?"

Jisung's about to respond when a grating voice rings out from behind him: "Jisungieee—"

Jisung's face lights up almost immediately, eyes catching onto someone behind Donghyuck, and Donghyuck turns around to his horror to see Jaemin sauntering up to them, twirling his keys on a school lanyard. 

"Hi hyung," Jisung says, wearing the sunniest smile Donghyuck's ever seen on him. It takes Donghyuck a few moments to process the situation at hand—Jisung and Jaemin both standing in front him, most certainly not by coincidence, like they aren't the last two people Donghyuck would want to be associated with each other _ever_.

"Hold the fuck up," Donghyuck says crossly, and moves defensively in front of Jisung like he's protecting him from enemyfire. "What's this about?"

"Jaemin-hyung's my ride," Jisung pipes up from behind him. 

"What the _ fuck _—"

Jaemin smirks. "Donghyuck, if you wanted a ride, all you had to do was ask."

Donghyuck flips him off and curls a hand defensively around Jisung's elbow. "Fuck off, Jaemin. How do you two know each other?"

"We met when I was touring the campus," Jisung says excitedly. "Jaemin-hyung was my tour guide!"

"You were a campus rep?" Donghyuck asks incredulously, turning around to give Jaemin the most disbelieving of stares. 

Jaemin scoffs and crosses his arms. "As a matter of fact, I was—"

"Okay, whatever, I don't care," Donghyuck snaps, tugging Jisung away. "Jisung, don't hang out with this guy. He's an asshole."

"Jaemin-hyung?" Jisung lets Donghyuck drag him a couple of feet before shaking off his grip. "He's nice to me, though. And he told me he'd give me a ride home today." 

Jisung sounds so completely and uncharacteristically enthused, and—okay, so maybe Donghyuck is lowkey jealous. He whirls around to shove Jisung back at Jaemin. "If Jisung doesn't text me in fifteen minutes that he's back in his dorm, I'm calling fucking PD to hunt your ass down."

Jaemin scoffs again, petting the back of Jisung's nape. "Jisung is in good hands."

"Fifteen minutes."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and stalks too toward the parking lot, Jisung trailing behind him.

And Jisung's text comes exactly thirteen minutes later, when Donghyuck's on his walk back to his apartment.

_ at my dorm~ you don't need to worry about jaemin-hyung, he watches out for me _

Donghyuck scowls down at his phone, about to shove it angrily back in his jacket when it pings with another notification. He looks at the sender, raising an eyebrow. It's Yukhei.

_ hey, are u home =) _

Donghyuck types back a response, anticipatory, as he nears the front gate of his apartment complex. _ almost. what's up? _

_ i got something for u =) _

He has a pretty good idea what it is. And when Donghyuck clambers up the stairs to the second floor to see Yukhei leaning outside his apartment wall, a grin spreads over his face.

"Hi," he says, and Yukhei looks up, a warm, goofy smile on his face.

"Hi," Yukhei says, straightening up. "Renjun's not home."

Donghyuck snorts, fishing out his keys. "I figured, or you wouldn't be standing out here like an idiot," he says, letting them both in before turning his attention to the Half and Half bag hanging from Yukhei's wrist with two sealed drinks inside. "That for me?"

Yukhei's grin just grows wider, more charming, and hands over the bag. "Taro milk tea, right?"

"Wow," Donghyuck coos, immediately fishing one out to drink before sticking the other in his fridge. "You even remember my order. What's the catch?"

"Can't a guy just get his friend Half and Half?" Yukhei chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was nothing wrong with it before."

"Yeah, well—" Donghyuck flushes just a little, sucking loudly on his straw. "Before was—"

He's saved the awkwardness of elaborating on that question by the front door unlocking. Renjun pauses in the foyer, glancing between Yukhei and Donghyuck.

"Uh," Renjun begins, toeing off his shoes. "Am I interrupting something?"

"I was just leaving," Yukhei cuts in, giving Donghyuck another goofy smile before turning to Renjun. "I'd brought an extra milk tea, but—"

"Fuck no," Donghyuck interjects immediately. "Both are mine."

Yukhei laughs as Renjun rolls his eyes. "See you around, Donghyuck."

"Don't forget about our board meeting next week," Renjun calls after him on his way out. When the door slams closed, he makes to round on Donghyuck immediately, but Donghyuck beats him to the punch.

"Where the hell did you go after training?" Donghyuck demands, stirring the pearls in his drink. "You left before me _ and _ you bike everywhere."

To his credit, Renjun flushes a sudden red across his nose before scowling immensely. "I had to take care of something."

"If—by something—you mean Dejun—"

"Don't change the subject," Renjun says quickly. "Why was Yukhei here in our apartment?" Renjun leans against their fridge, giving him an amused look. Donghyuck takes a long, pointed sip of his drink.

"What, I can't have friends?"

Renjun gives him a look. "This is _ Yukhei_, Donghyuck."

"He was just bringing me Half and Half, jeez. What's wrong with that?"

Renjun raises an eyebrow. "He hasn't done that for you since you guys stopped fooling around. It's been what—a year? Have you started hooking up with him again without telling me?"

Donghyuck shrugs, hoisting himself up onto the kitchen table, kicking his feet. "I don't need your permission to sleep with people, Renjun, but for the record, no. Maybe Yukhei just wants to bring me free drinks because I am impeccably and irresistibly charming—and who am I to say no?"

Renjun rolls his eyes again. "Whatever, asshole."

The next week of training has them sitting with their units again as they sit through about five presentations from each of the academic schools. Donghyuck's pretty sure he sleeps through most it it, but somehow ends up with three pages of notes that he hopes are mostly comprehensible. Yerim gives them fifteen minutes of free time at the end, so Donghyuck pulls out his phone and leans back in his chair.

Donghyuck feels a tug on his jacket sleeve, and turns to see Yangyang once again in the seat next to him.

"Hi," Yangyang says, loudly snapping gum. "Can I borrow your training notes?"

Wordlessly, Donghyuck hands them over before going back to his mobile game. Yangyang immediately busies himself copying them down. Seemingly moments later, he must have gone bored because he's back to poking him again. "Whatcha playing?"

"Words with Friends," Donghyuck mutters, squinting down at his screen as he tries to make sense of what Mark is drawing.

There's a gust of hot breath on the back of his neck, and Donghyuck yelps, almost falling out of his chair. Yangyang is practically hanging over him. "I think that's a jackfruit," he says, pointing down at Mark's drawing. Dubiously, Donghyuck types it in, only to look up at Yangyang in surprise when the answer is correct.

"How'd you know?"

"I'm really good at games," Yangyang offers, beaming broadly.

"Yeah?" Donghyuck makes quick work at sketching an eskimo that he thinks is pretty good, but unfortunately Mark doesn't seem to share that same sentiment. "Oh come _ on— _ " he groans at Mark's answer of _ igloo _.

"Wow, your friend is really bad at this," Yangyang comments over his shoulder, and Donghyuck awkwardly leans to the side to get more space. "That's okay, my boyfriend is bad at games too."

Donghyuck's head shoots up so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. "Boyfriend?"

"Kun's a grad student," Yangyang says sunnily, pulling out his phone and waking up his phone, showing off a photo of Yangyang hanging over a guy a couple inches shorter than him. "He's doing cultural linguistics."

Donghyuck's not used to people opening up to him so quickly—for whatever reason always gravitating towards people who don't share much about themselves (though with Renjun, he suspects that's more of a self-repression thing compared to, say, Jeno and Mark). But maybe this change, this little bit of difference, is not so bad after all.

Donghyuck meets Yangyang's cheerful, expectant gaze and offers up a smile. "You're cute together."

Yangyang beams again. "Thanks," he singsongs. "He's really boring and goes to bed at, like nine, but he's sweet and brings me Panda Express when I'm hungry."

Donghyuck snorts, letting Yangyang ramble on about his boyfriend as he tries to take down Mark for another few rounds. Renjun texts him in the middle of turn, interrupting his gameplay and spoiling his almost win.

_ i won't be home tonight lol _

Donghyuck jerks his head up, turning to glare across the room at the group of Honors peers, where Renjun catches his eye and winks

"Asshole," Donghyuck mutters, flipping him off. "Jeez, everyone's getting laid except me."

"Oh, Renjun?" Yangyang asks brightly, glancing over at where Donghyuck is looking. "Are you talking about that weird thing between him and Dejun?"

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. "What do you know about it?"

"They flirt, like, all the time during CSSA meetings," Yangyang says, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "It's kind of cute—I think Dejun actually likes him."

Dejun most _ certainly _ likes Renjun, if Donghyuck were to judge by what he'd almost walked in on last week. He rolls his eyes, about to go back to his game, when Yangyang clears his throat.

"Also, you're wrong."

Donghyuck jolts his head up on reflex. "Wrong about what?"

Yangyang points over toward the other side of the lecture hall, where Jaemin is sitting with some of the girls from their unit, Doyeon and Yeji. "Jaemin. He's not getting laid."

"How do you know," Donghyuck blurts out without thinking, and immediately flushes red.

Yangyang's grin widens. Another person with far too many teeth than should be humanly possible. "He has Tinder on his phone, but he never opens it. Which means he's single, but not getting any action."

"Okay," Donghyuck says crossly. "And that concerns me why?"

"Oh, you know," Yangyang says, shrugging. "Since you were so hung up about being single."

"I'm not hung up about being single," Donghyuck says heatedly, "I'm hung up because my fucking asshole of a roommate is getting his dick wet more than I am!"

"Well, to be fair, Renjun can be very persuasive," Yangyang says solemnly.

"I hate this and you," Donghyuck groans, but before Yangyang can say anything else, Yerim is dismissing them all for the night. 

Donghyuck grabs his things and makes his way over to where Renjun is typing away furiously on his phone. "You are a piece of shit," he tells him without any preamble whatsoever.

Renjun bats his lashes at him, pocketing his phone. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

They're about to head out when footsteps patter up behind them.

"Wait," Jeno says, holding him and Renjun back by the straps of the bags. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I don't know if you can see, Jeno, but I'm in a hurry to go home to my boring sex life," Donghyuck says crossly.

Renjun smirks. "What is it?"

Jeno blinks owlishly at them, unfazed by their bickering. "You're both coming to my birthday, right?" 

"Oh shit, that's next week, huh?" Donghyuck double checks his phone just to be sure. "Damn, how the hell are you twenty one before me?"

Jeno gives them a toothy grin. "Mark's throwing me a party next Friday."

"Next Friday?" Renjun gives him a look. "That's right before retreat. Are you crazy?" 

Jeno pouts. "But It'll be fun."

Renjun wrinkles his nose, pretending to think about it. "Who's going?" 

Jeno ticks people off on his fingers. "You guys, Mark's friends, some of my friends from freshman year—"

"Sorry, Renjun," Donghyuck interrupts loudly, turning to leer at him. "No Dejun, I guess." 

Renjun scowls. "Dejun's presence at Jeno's party or lack thereof has nothing to do with whether or not I voluntarily subject myself to Jeno's exhibitionist tendencies."

Jeno blushes a bright red. "I don't have exhibitionist tendencies!"

Donghyuck sighs, slinging an arm around Jeno's shoulders. "Jeno, we were all with you at noraebang that one time. You don't have to keep denying it."

"I'm still so fucking pissed about that," Renjun hisses, throwing open the building doors rather violently. "Of all places to give your boyfriend a lap dance—couldn't you have waited until you were in the car? Now we can never go back there, and I _ loved _ that place—"

"Anyway," Jeno says pointedly, the backs of his ears flushed a furious scarlet. "So does this mean that you'll come to my birthday?"

Jeno's puppy eyes are altogether too much for Donghyuck to handle, so he throws his hands up in mock defeat. "Fine, fine."

"No body shots in front of me," Renjun says immediately, glaring at Jeno. "But yeah, we'll be there."

Like all parties hosted by Mark, this one is crowded and noisy. Donghyuck doesn't know how Mark consistently manages to invite half their fucking campus to these things, but he suspects that most of these are plus ones just here for the booze. Donghyuck pushes his way through the people, eventually finding Jeno curled up halfway in Mark's lap.

"It's been an hour," Donghyuck says accusingly, glaring at Mark, who has his arm looped around Jeno's torso. Jeno has a birthday headband on and almost all his limbs wrapped around Mark's waist. "How many drinks has he had?"

Mark grins sheepishly, smoothing a hand down Jeno's spine. "He had about five with me. I'm not sure about with others, though?"

Donghyuck clicks his tongue loudly, accepting a cup of something viciously red from one of Mark's friends. "Aren't you supposed to be taking care of him? It's his birthday, you know."

"I know," Mark says, face shining with earnestness. "But it's so hard when he just—you know—_whines_—"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and crouches down next to Mark, pushing up Jeno's bangs. Jeno blinks blearily at him. "Hey, it's me, you lump. Happy birthday. You're fucking wasted. You didn't even wait for me and Renjun."

Jeno's head lolls on Mark's shoulder, legs tightening around Mark's waist. "Donghyuck, you didn't bring me a present," he mumbles, almost incoherent from being muffled into Mark's shirt.

"Here's my present, silly," Donghyuck says, taking one of Jeno's hands, and places a condom on his palm. It's one of Renjun's, but Renjun doesn't have to know that. "Be safe tonight, okay?"

Jeno gives him a silly, inebriated smile. "I love you Donghyuck."

"Yeah, yeah, you love Mark's dick more." Donghyuck leaves before he has to deal with the aftermath of Mark choking on his drink, pushing through the crowd to look for Renjun. 

He finds Renjun in the hallway nursing his own cup and texting someone with one hand. 

"You are not trying to make a booty call in the middle of Jeno's birthday," Donghyuck says in mock aghast. 

Renjun scowls, shoving his phone in his pocket immediately. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like you're not totally telling Dejun that you're gonna come over later to fuck him stupid."

Renjun's smile is all too predatory. "Yukhei's here," he says, jerking his head towards outside in the backyard, where a couple of BP games are going on. "You gonna be making any calls yourself later?"

"Hell no," Donghyuck says emphatically, reaching out to steal Renjun's drink and downing that too.

Renjun raises his eyebrows. "We have retreat tomorrow. Are you sure that's the wisest move?"

"If I have to watch Mark and Jeno shove tongues together all night, I need to be about two hundred percent drunker," Donghyuck mutters, and Renjun rolls his eyes. 

"You may want to start mixing your own shit, then," he says, tapping the rim of Donghyuck's cup. "Jeno already told me this is mostly punch."

"Fucking hell," Donghyuck swears, and makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's already opening Mark's bottom cabinets where he knows Mark keeps his alcohol, when he realizes he's not alone in the kitchen. Donghyuck whips his head around to _Jaemin_ of all people, leaning against the counter and holding a cup. He's not sure why Jaemin is here, but is not about to ask.

Jaemin crosses his arms and sips at his drink, entirely nonplussed. "You're not going to find anything there," he says, nodding at the lower cabinet. "I already saw Mark move it elsewhere."

"Fuck," Donghyuck mutters. The responsible thing to do here would be to give up the search and spend the rest of the night sober. Jeno will probably start throwing up in an hour, and Donghyuck will need to be there to help take care of him because Mark is useless. But something shifts under his skin, eats away at the part of him that's urging him to ignore Jaemin in well-fitting jeans and pretend that he'd never seen him. 

He stands up straight, glowers at Jaemin, and momentarily pushes down his pride. "Where?"

Donghyuck is almost expecting Jaemin to shrug, say that he doesn't know, and that would be the end of that. But Jaemin raises his eyebrows before silently leaving the kitchen. Donghyuck swears and—against his better judgement—follows after him upstairs into Mark's room. 

"Of course he'd fucking keep it here," Donghyuck mutters, shoving Jaemin out of the way to reach under his bed where he knows the good liquor would be.

"So if I tell Mark that you were in his room drinking his alcohol," Jaemin says from where he's leaning against Mark's doorframe, watching Donghyuck sit down on the floor to pour out a generous amount of vodka into his cup. "Then that wouldn't be a problem whatsoever, right?" 

Donghyuck throws back his cup to drain it in one go and wipes his mouth, grimacing. "If I give you some," he snaps. "Will you shut up?"

Jaemin doesn't respond to that, just settles down on the floor next to him and holds out his cup. Under the whitish-blue glow of Mark's desk lap, Jaemin's hair is still stupid and pink. He's wearing jeans that fit him too well, and Donghyuck truly, _truly_ despises him. 

"I really fucking hate you," he hisses, tipping the bottle into Jaemin's cup, and Jaemin grins, his smile all teeth.

"Cheers," Jaemin says, clinking their cups together, and the last thing Donghyuck remembers is watching Jaemin throw his head back to drink, throat working as he swallows, and thinking that he is fucked.

Donghyuck wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache, stumbling out of his room to find Renjun drinking tea in the kitchen. Donghyuck doesn't know who he's going to murder first—Renjun, hiding an all too knowing smirk behind his mug, or Yerim, for scheduling PAA retreat on a fucking _Saturday_. His head throbs again, so he settles with death by glaring daggers instead.

"I think I've died," Donghyuck snaps, yanking open the fridge to blearily peer inside. "Kill me now."

"Well," Renjun says, and there's something all too giddy coating his words, souring them in Donghyuck's ears. "I mean, I'd kill myself too if I found out I'd been sucking face with my enemy all night."

Donghyuck almost drops the Brita pitcher he'd pulled out of the fridge, turning around slowly. He must have heard wrong. There's no way that what Renjun said is actually true. "_What?_"

Renjun sets his mug down delicately, lacing his fingers together under his chin. "How much of last night do you remember?"

"I—" Donghyuck slumps down into a chair at the kitchen table. "I remember clowning Mark for letting Jeno get wasted—then you trying to get your dick wet—then the—" Donghyuck sits up straight in his chair, the horror slowly dawning on him as the previous night's events replay in his head. Finding Jaemin in the kitchen—dragging him off to look for Mark's alcohol—sitting in Mark's bedroom with Jaemin, _ alone_— "Motherfuck."

"I wasn't sure if I was supposed to pull you off," Renjun continues blithely, staring down at his nails. "You looked like you were having fun."

"I am going to _kill_ Jaemin," Donghyuck seethes, flushing hot with mortification. 

"Not in the middle of training, I hope," Renjun says, amused. "Here—" He places a glass of water on the table in front of Donghyuck, who takes it reluctantly. "Don't want you throwing up all over your new boy toy."

Donghyuck flips him off before taking a long sip.

Forty minutes later finds Donghyuck following Renjun back into their training lecture hall, baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes. There didn't seem to be any sort of sitting regulation that Yerim was enforcing, so Donghyuck plops down next to Renjun and the other Honors PAAs, very pointedly ignoring all the interactions around him. There's still no sign of Jaemin—thankfully—or Jeno—understandably. But Donghyuck at least has faith in Mark's abilities to deliver Jeno on time.

And sure enough, Jeno comes in about ten minutes before their call time, looking fucked to all hell, plopping himself down next to Donghyuck with a grunt.

"Morning," Jeno says in a raspy whisper. Donghyuck rolls his eyes. 

"Headache?"

Jeno winces, taking a hasty swig from his water bottle. "You don't even know."

"Why do we even have to be here—some fucking retreat this is," Donghyuck grumbles, slouching down in his seat. Renjun smirks.

"You know, it's not actually a retreat," Renjun says dryly. "I think Yerim just called it that to make us all want to come."

"It's required anyway, so what's the point?" Donghyuck whines. "Ugh, I want my fucking money back."

It's only Week 4, and Spring is already a mess. Donghyuck slumps over, putting his head down on the swing-out desk, and tries not to think about the previous night, or if there's any possible way he could avoid Jaemin for the rest of the quarter. Maybe he could withdraw from the Social Sciences PA program now, beg the staff at the Undeclared office to take him instead, and then _maybe_ he can squeeze on by in relative anonymity—

"Hey," Renjun's voice breaks through his thoughts, gleeful. "Your boy toy is here."

And Donghyuck regrets just how fast he sits up in his seat, resents the way Renjun bursts into snickers, all the while Jeno is giving them both a confused look.

"Your boy toy?" he repeats, showing the most signs of life since he'd walked in. "_Jaemin_?"

Donghyuck does not want to know why Jeno is on a name basis with Jaemin; he has enough problems as it is. "Shut _ up_, Renjun, Jaemin is not my boytoy, I fucking hate the guy—" he hisses, immediately opening up his training binder to hide behind it when Jaemin starts to look over in their direction.

"Okay, so you were just making out with him last night for no reason." Renjun smiles innocently, and if they weren't within visual range of their director, Donghyuck would already have his hands around his throat.

"Renjun, I am going to throw out all your condoms and pour all your lube down the drain," Donghyuck seethes, making as if to strangle him, but Renjun only laughs and tugs Donghyuck's hood over his head.

Jeno hasn't quite yet processed the situation, looking blankly between Renjun and Donghyuck. "You made out with _ Jaemin _ last night? At my birthday?"

Donghyuck angrily yanks his hood back down, giving Renjun a hard kick under his chair. "I don't want to talk about it," he snaps.

Thankfully, Yerim is clearing her throat down at the front of the lecture hall where she's standing next to their program director, effectively ending all discussion of the topic, at least for now. Donghyuck grunts and slumps down in his seat as the session begins.

Renjun's right—it's not so much a retreat as it is an excuse to lecture in front of them all outside of their normal Thursday nights. Donghyuck and Jeno fall asleep more than once, kicked to grumbling wakefulness by Renjun's bony feet, but somehow Donghyuck manages to make it through the entire four hours.

At least Yerim had it in her good graces to make sure that they'd get fed, and she rolls out a cart of catered sandwiches just a little before noon, distributing food and water to the slowly forming line at the front. Donghyuck hangs back at first, watching Jaemin get into line behind Jeno and Renjun. He has half a mind to ditch them both and just go home to nap for another three hours, but his stomach eventually gets the best of him. It is, after all, free food—the most valuable currency a college student could have. Grimacing, Donghyuck slings his bag impatiently over his shoulder as he makes his way down to the front of the lecture hall, falling into in line just as Jaemin finishes getting his food.

Donghyuck only spares him the briefest of dirty looks before pulling out his phone to try to look busy, but Jaemin isn't having any of it.

"Rough night?" Jaemin asks, mouth curving up in the most infuriating of ways. Donghyuck hates the momentary wave of heat that flashes across his face, and he clenches his jaw.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Donghyuck says icily, grabbing one of the sandwiches from Yerim's cart before striding off briskly towards the exit. Jaemin makes a _tsk_ing noise, following Donghyuck out of the lecture hall to his utmost displeasure, and Donghyuck at least waits until they're outside before rounding on him. "Stop following me," Donghyuck snaps. "Don't you have better things to do?"

Jaemin's lip curls up in an indecipherable expression. "You were so much nicer to me when my tongue was in your mouth."

Donghyuck flushes red and hot across his nose bridge, whirling around to glower at him. "I'll be nicer to you if you fuck the royal fuck off—" Donghyuck tries to leave again, but Jaemin catches his arm. "_Stop_," he bites out, glaring up at Jaemin. He hates the heat under his skin, hates the way Jaemin looks so carelessly flawless even after a night of partying, hates his stupid pink hair shoved under his snapback, hates the way Jaemin is still holding onto his arm like he's expecting something from him. Donghyuck has nothing to give him—he's already put so much of himself out into the world. He is not giving up anymore, not for anyone, and especially not for Jaemin.

"I hate you," Donghyuck says, slowly and quietly, and yanks his arm out of Jaemin's grip. "Get it through your head."

Jaemin holds his hands up, taking a diplomatic step back. "So you've told me," he says, voice measured and careful. Donghyuck doesn't like his tone, or the way Jaemin's eyes go momentarily dark and stormy, but he spares no more thoughts for him, and leaves.

Donghyuck doesn't choose to study with Jisung all too often, so he's not sure if Jisung's apparent reluctance to inch anywhere near closer to him has to do with flu season or just Jisung being Jisung.

"It's a book, Jisung, not a snake," he says, picking up the textbook in question and gently thwacking him over the head with it.

"I haven't taken Chem since high school," Jisung says, mildly horrified.

"Well who told you to take Chem, you dummy?"

"My friend," Jisung says, poking reluctantly at the cover. "I'm going to fail, I just know it."

Donghyuck snorts. "You're not going to fail. I have a friend in Bio. He can tutor you if you need it."

Jisung looks up at Donghyuck with the same kind of adorably helpless confusion that had Donghyuck melting all over again. 

Jisung signs, finally flipping the book cover open and staring down forlornly at the table of contents. "I just wish this wasn't so hard."

Donghyuck ruffles his hair, somewhat pitying. "Jisung, if you don't read your textbook then it really will be hard."

"I don't mean just chem," Jisung mumbles, and under his hoodie Donghyuck can see Jisung flush a little red, his eyes going downcast.

"Hey," Donghyuck says, snapping his laptop closed and scooting his chair over. "What's going on?"

"Picking a major is hard," Jisung says quietly, and Donghyuck can't stop himself from wrapping a loose arm around Jisung's shoulders (with some difficulty—the kid is unfairly tall and broad).

"It is," Donghyuck tells him gently. "It's okay if you're confused, though. It took me about a year and a half to figure out what I wanted to major in."

Jisung offers him a rare smile, fidgeting with the pages of his textbook. "How did you know you wanted to do Psych?"

"I didn't," Donghyuck says frankly, and Jisung looks up with a startled expression. "I just kind of took random courses until I found something I liked. Then I stuck with it."

"Oh." Jisung blinks owlishly at him. "That's—"

"Anticlimatic, huh?" Donghyuck laughs and gives his shoulder another squeeze before letting go. "It's not always an epiphany, Jisung. You just have to find something you will like doing for four years. It's okay to not have a grand plan."

Jisung nods sheepishly, flipping to a section in his text. "Ugh, gross. Maybe I do need a tutor."

Donghyuck gives him another indulgent smile and goes back to his clinic paper.

Donghyuck sweeps a critical eye over the worksheet they'd been given—the title _ How to work with students who are struggling, unsure, or undecided _ sprawling across the top, followed by a series of scenarios that they could all expect to encounter at least once during their time as a PA.

The thing is—Donghyuck skimming all four of the scenarios printed—he's been in each of these exact situations, every last one. He glances down the row at the other Social Sciences peers, all of them scribbling away dutifully, Jaemin included. Donghyuck narrows his eyes before beginning to write down his answers.

Five minutes later, after Yerim had broken them all up into groups to share their answers, Donghyuck finds himself pointedly trying to ignore Jaemin across from him.

Hyunjoon clears his throat awkwardly, looking around at their group. "So, uh—does anyone want to go first?"

"I'll go," Yiren says, flicking her long hair over her shoulder, holding her worksheet out in front of her. "So for the scenario about a student thinking about changing their major—I wrote that they should research all their possible options thoroughly before making a decision, so they could see what's right for them."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He's heard this advice before, many times over, to the point that it's almost started to become meaningless to him.

"But if you're undecided, it doesn't matter how much you research your options," Donghyuck challenges, raising an eyebrow at Yiren. "Do you know how many hours I spent looking up different majors? None of that mattered until I actually started taking the classes."

"You were undeclared before, right?" Hyunjoon asks, leaning in with interest, and Donghyuck bites back his involuntary fight reaction.

"Yeah," he says. "So I know where I'm coming from."

Jaemin frowns and crosses his arms, leans back in his chair. "If you truly have no idea what you want to do, then the easiest answer is just to go with STEM."

Donghyuck bites the inside of his cheek. "Will you quit it with the STEM thing? STEM's not the answer to everything."

"I mean," Hyunjoon begins dubiously. "If I were smart enough for STEM, that's probably what I would've tried too, but I suck at calculus—"

"My point exactly," Jaemin says, staring Donghyuck down. "It's the safest route, in my opinion. Major like Chemistry or Engineering are always going to be in-demand, so when you consider the post-degree opportunities—"

Donghyuck frowns, Jaemin's words suddenly ringing a bell in his mind, and then everything clicks. "Hold the fuck up—" Donghyuck says loudly, and everyone else freezes to look at him. "Are _ you _ the one who keeps telling Jisung to take STEM courses?"

Jaemin blinks at him a couple of times, bewildered, before crossing his arms again. "Uh—yeah, what about it?"

"_Bastard_," Donghyuck hisses. "Stop trying to make all his decisions for him—that's why he's _ Undeclared_, you piece of shit—"

"He didn't object when I suggested it to him," Jaemin fires right back, and now Yiren and Hyunjoon aren't even talking anymore, just watching the ensuing argument unfold with wide eyes. "It's better for him."

"Jisung _ sucks _ at Chemistry—have you even seen him? He's been miserable all quarter—"

"Jisung does not _ suck_," Jaemin snaps. "He just needs to try harder."

Donghyuck slams his palms on the desk and stands up, shoulders quaking with rage. He is not going to have this argument right now, not in the middle of training, and certainly not with Jaemin.

"Uh, Donghyuck?" Yiren asks meekly.

"What's wrong?" Their program director is making her way over to their table pod, heavily penciled brows drawing together. "Is there a problem?"

Donghyuck closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath.

"Everything's fine," he says, offering up a tight smile. "I think I just need to step outside for a moment."

Their director puts her hands on her hips and glances at the rest of his table. Yiren and Hyunjoon are pointedly looking down at their worksheets, while Jaemin just stares back blankly at her. She sighs. "Okay, but make it quick."

Donghyuck is already pulling out his phone the moment the evening air hits his face, the blood pounding so hard in his ears he can barely think, just pulls up his contacts on reflex, hits call.

He stops to sink down onto a bench as he listens to the call dial out, ringing, and then Mark picks up.

"Donghyuck?" There's some noise in the background, and then it suddenly goes quiet "Hey—what's up? Aren't you at training?"

Donghyuck inhales slowly, lets it out in beats of three. "Can you pick me up after this? You don't have anything planned, right?"

"Tonight?" Mark sounds bewildered, but that's a good sign. If he weren't free, he would've immediately said no. "Well—I guess—I can swing by to get you and Jeno if you want—"

"No—" Donghyuck cuts him off, running his fingers through his hair. He swallows. "Just you and me. If that's okay."

Mark is silent on the other end for a moment, before sighing. "Okay," he says. "Okay, I'll go get you—maybe we can grab a bite."

"Yeah, sounds good," Donghyuck mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, his stomach churning. "I'll see you at eight?"

"Yeah—Donghyuck?"

"Hm?" Donghyuck's already standing up and on his way back to the lecture hall, where Yerim and their director are no doubt looking for him.

"Is everything okay?"

Donghyuck swallows again, pausing right outside the doors. "It will be," he says. "See you soon."

"This was fun," Mark says later, rubbing his hands over his belly when they leave the diner. "We should hang out more often."

"Well, you have a boyfriend now," Donghyuck says without thinking. "So it makes sense that you're too busy nowadays."

Mark lets out a nervous laugh as they get into his car. "Hey, that doesn't mean I still can't hang out with friends—"

Donghyuck smiles stiffly. "Well, I'm glad you could spare some time in your busy schedule for me."

"Of course, Donghyuck, you're one of my best friends." Mark buckles up, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "Oh, guess what?"

Donghyuck looks up from his phone. "Hm?"

"Remember the summer internship I was telling you about?"

Donghyuck chews on the inside of his cheek. "The law one?"

Mark nods energetically. "I got it! I got an internship with the District Attorney's office!"

Donghyuck stares down at his phone. He knows that he should be feeling more excited. Happy for Mark. He's been working hard for this internship all year.

"Donghyuck?"

"Congrats," Donghyuck says finally, meeting Mark's gaze. He's sure that his smile isn't reaching into his eyes.

Mark bites his lip. "Hey, what's—what's with that tone—"

"Nothing," Donghyuck snaps, and the wince on Mark's face is enough to have him feeling bad, but Donghyuck can't stop the words coming out of his mouth. "Seriously, congratulations. I mean like there was ever any real doubt that you'd get the fucking internship, what with your 4.0 and honors society and perfect fucking resume—"

"Donghyuck—"

"I mean, really, that's all it comes down to, right?" Donghyuck rages on. "You'll be set with Law and Jeno will be going off to med school and Renjun will probably have a zillion offers after we graduate while I'll just be sitting on my ass because no one wants to hire Psych degrees for nothing. You know, sometimes I wonder if I had had my life together freshman year that you would've liked me more. Or something."

A terrible, ringing silence reverberates throughout the car as Donghyuck cuts himself off, the words leaving stinging imprints in the air like a slapmark.

Mark doesn't say anything at first. He puts the car into park, hand resting on the wheel as he looks at him, really looks at him. Donghyuck hates when he does that. Hates being reminded that he is more transparent than he makes himself out to be, especially to Mark.

"Donghyuck," Mark says, all too gently, and Donghyuck meets his eyes, slowly, sullenly. "Is that what this is about?"

He wants to say no, but the answer is more than that. He exhales slowly, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, loosens his palms. "I'm sorry," Donghyuck says, the apology burning right through him. "I'm over it."

Mark gives him a careful, sweeping look, and Donghyuck wilts a little under his gaze.

"That had nothing to do with why I didn't like you back," Mark says, his voice still that same steady brand of quiet. "You're one of my best friends. I just didn't have feelings for you like that."

Donghyuck knows this. He'd been angry about it for half a year after Mark rejected him, but had eventually pushed it back to the bottom of his mind where he wouldn't have to dissect his fears over and over again. But he's always been like this—cutthroat, aggressive. His mother used to tell him he'd been born with a fight in his bones, ready to take on a world that would relentlessly seek out his weaknesses, the chinks in his armor. A desire to win wired into his DNA, fundamentally hard-coded to accept nothing less than victory.

"I just wish I didn't come in last for everything," Donghyuck mumbles, burning hot under his eyes. "Like, literally everything."

"It's not a competition," Mark says, all too gently, and Donghyuck wishes that he hadn't been so nice. That Mark had been a jerk instead of nothing but wonderful, because at least if he had been, then it would be so much easier to sit here and try not to cry, because Mark is just too kind for his own good. "Not everything is a competition."

"I know it's not," Donghyuck says, words forced out from around the coiled knot in his throat, "but it feels like I'm losing anyway."

Mark makes a low sound of concern and scooted closer. "Who are you losing, Donghyuck?" he asks, fingers wrapping around his wrist and holding on tight. It isn't fair. "I'm not going anywhere."

And Donghyuck knows what he means, but it doesn't make it any easier. And in a way, Mark is still wrong, because Mark is going places, has his whole life set up ahead of him, and while Donghyuck has no doubt that Mark would stay, he knows that Mark isn't staying for him. Mark would still continue on to places where Donghyuck couldn't reach him, and Donghyuck would still be there, a few months shy of twenty, trying miserably to figure out his own path in ways that wouldn't break him. Maybe, one day, he'd catch up and see for himself what that's like, to be moving forward, to have somewhere to go.

The last time Donghyuck had been to the Alumni House was almost exactly two years ago, Spring quarter of his freshman year to attend a career success panel from university alumni who had all started off as undeclared. Donghyuck still remembers the way he'd felt, sitting in the back of the room while three thirty-something panelists up front all chattered away about things like _ finding your passion _ and _ following your dreams_—all things Donghyuck's heard before but could never truly grasp. That event had been small and, for all of its proposed intimacy, surprisingly impersonal. It had barely taken up one of the smaller rooms in the Alumni House, just ten rows of chairs that hadn't even filled up, with the table of panelists up front.

Tonight, however, the Alumni House is packed and alive. Chenle had truly gone all out with the planning—having rented out the largest space available and adorned it with sleek tables of elegant hors d'oeuvres and brightly colored beverages in clear plastic glasses. A giant LCD screen at the front of the room flashed a slideshow featuring mobile phone screenshots of Chenle's latest business venture—_ Seconds _ , according to the screen, _ a revolutionary social dining app. _ Various banners and the paper napkins all similarly were emblazoned with the Seconds logo.

Donghyuck's never met the kid, but he's heard enough about Chenle through Renjun and Yukhei to know that Chenle—apparently the young heir of a big name financial conglomerate in Shanghai—has been making headlines in the business world since he was eleven, and that the recruiters from the business program had practically begged him to come to their campus.

"Remind me why we're here again," Donghyuck mutters, letting Renjun nudge him through the throng of event goers. Most of them people here are from Chenle and Renjun's club CSSA, though Donghyuck wouldn't be surprised if there were some actual high-rolling investors wading through the crowd of students. Highly likely, given Chenle's connections.

"Chenle invited us," Renjun says, giving him a sharp jab in between his shoulder blades.

Donghyuck winches and finally makes it to the edge of the room where the food and drinks are being served. "Chenle invited _ you _, you mean," Donghyuck says, helping himself to a large glass of punch.

Renjun smirks. "Lucky for you, I was feeling generous enough to bring you along."

"Good evening gentlemen," says a voice from over their shoulder. Donghyuck turns around to see Chenle grinning at them with brochures in hand. "Have you both downloaded Seconds yet?"

Renjun waggles his phone at him, the bright blue and yellow app interface flashing from the screen. "Last night. Looks good, Lele."

Donghyuck frowns and pulls his phone out. "What's it for again?"

Chenle flashes him a winning business smile and promptly tugs his phone out of Donghyuck's hands. "Seconds is what I call a social dining app," he says cheerfully, navigating the screens of Donghyuck's phone with ease. "Just got approved for App store and Google play store last week."

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn't try to take his phone back. Hell, he could take five minutes of being sold on a phone app if it got him free food.

"So let's say you've made too much of a dish for dinner, and you're feeling particularly generous," Chenle begins his pitch, handing Donghyuck back his phone. "Seconds will allow you to host a meal and set a max number of diners, which will then be visible to all users of the app. Make friends and connections over great food—genius, right?"

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow and thumbs through the app. Already, he could see a few users who were already beginning to host some lunches and dinners. "So it's basically like Tinder except it's literally just for eating someone's leftovers?"

"Chenle got the idea originally because the CSSA members wanted an easy way to see who was hosting hot pot," Renjun says, smirking. "Then it just kind of took off from there.

Chenle laughs. "That's just the first step. After this initial phase, I'm planning to expand to local eateries to see if we could build any partnerships. Rather than just limit users to home-cooked meals, I thought it would be great to collaborate with restaurants within the area to help promote small businesses."

Donghyuck quirks a smile and pockets his phone. "Thanks for the demo. I'll see if I get hungry enough to try it out one night."

Chenle flashes another bright smile at them both. "Thank you both for coming! I need to go mingle a little more, if you would excuse me—"

Donghyuck gives Renjun a look as Chenle waltzes past them to schmooze with other event goers. "Is he always like this?"

"Chenle?" Renjun snorts. "Yeah, he's always got some wild and ambitious project going on," he says, looking out into the crowd, and goes quiet for a moment. "You know, to be honest I don't think Chenle should even be here."

Donghyuck frowns. "What do you mean?"

Renjun gestures around at the room decor. "Chenle's pretty much successful enough as it is, like being in college is just slowing him down, in my opinion. Plus, his family's loaded. He doesn't really need a degree to do what he wants."

Donghyuck takes a slow sip of his drink, letting Renjun's words digest for a moment. He'd been in that boat for a little while too, during his senior year of high school, wondering if college really was for him. The idea of putting in four years for what—a piece of paper and $45,000 in debt? None too tantalizing for seventeen year old Donghyuck, who had yet to learn how to turn off his immediate want to rebel against every tearful plea from his mother to go to university. Even though now he's nineteen and he's learned to accept that his mother only wanted the best for him, Donghyuck still can't help but wonder if he'd made the right choice.

The sound of obnoxious, cloying laughter causes him to jolt out of his reverie, and Donghyuck gapes at who he sees just a few feet in front of him—Jaemin with his phone out, nodding along indulgently to Chenle's animated pitch with the good grace of someone much more deserving than he is.

“What the hell is Jaemin doing here,” Donghyuck hisses, gripping Renjun’s shoulder. “Why does he literally show up everywhere?”

“I mean, this is a campus wide event, technically,” Renjun says, shrugging Donghyuck’s hand off him as he surveys the room, completely uncaring to Donghyuck's impending crisis. His eyes suddenly flash dark and intentful. “I’ll be right back,” he says. Donghyuck follows Renjun’s gaze across the room to where he sees Dejun chatting with some other members from CSSA.

“Jesus Christ,” Donghyuck says to Renjun’s retreating back, “Okay, thanks? I’ll just be here talking to the snacks.”

“That wouldn’t be fun,” says a voice behind him. Donghyuck whirls around to see Yukhei grinning sheepishly at him, large hands wrapped around two flutes of champagne.

All at once, Donghyuck has forgotten all about Renjun's inability to keep his dick in his pants. An easy smile slides across his face, and he holds his hand out for a glass, curls his mouth up in a knowing smile. “I didn’t see _ these _ at the snack table.”

Yukhei chuckles, a warm, pleasant rumble. “It's uh—Chenle’s bottle. Just don’t tell anyone.”

Donghyuck smirks and clinks their glasses together. “I’ll take it to the grave,” he says in a covert, dramatic whisper.

Yukhei's smile broadens, his eyes crinkling up charmingly at the corners. “What have you been up to? I haven't seen you since last quarter.”

There’s a twinkle in Yukhei’s eyes that suffuses a warm heat throughout his whole body. They’d stopped whatever was going between the two of them last year, but this easy banter is still so dangerously comfortable.

“Well, you know me," Donghyuck tosses off, taking a sip of the champagne. Whatever it is, it's good. "Everyone just wants a piece of me. That, and peer advisor training.”

"Oh yeah, I heard from Renjun." Yukhei grasps his shoulder in a warm, firm grip, and Donghyuck can't help but flush. "Congrats, by the way! When do you start advising?”

Donghyuck is about to respond when Yukhei fixes his gaze on someone behind him, and Donghyuck turns around, displeased but unsurprised to see Jaemin standing there with his arms crossed, looking between the two of them expectantly. Donghyuck's mouth presses into a tight line.

"Hi," Yukhei says politely, offering a hand. "Are you a friend of Chenle's?"

Jaemin takes Yukhei's hand with a perfunctory, measured smile. "Something like that."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and turns back to Yukhei, fully intent on ignoring Jaemin, but to his displeasure, Yukhei steps back, clasping his hands together. “Well, I guess I'll walk around some more," he says, giving them both a charming, boyish smile. "It was good seeing you Donghyuck.” Yukhei grasps his shoulder one more time before pushing his way back into the crowd.

Donghyuck exhales noisily, watching Yukhei walk away, before rounding on Jaemin. “I was having a conversation, and I don’t recall inviting you.”

Jaemin crosses his arms again stiffly. “I invited myself,” he says, nodding at Donghyuck’s champagne. “Where’d you get that?”

Donghyuck scowls and drains the rest of his glass in one go. The bubbles hurt his nose, but he doesn’t care. “Get what?”

Jaemin scoffs. “Okay, real mature.”

“I don’t care," Donghyuck snaps, pushing his way past him, fully prepared to drag Renjun away from his prey and bounce, but Jaemin catches his arm. Donghyuck almost lets out a snarl. "Let go."

Jaemin ignores him, curling fingers around his wrist. "Where are you going?"

“None of your business—“ Donghyuck manages to shake off Jaemin's grip and looks around, but his roommate is nowhere to be seen. “Fuck.”

Jaemin’s smile is infuriating. “You were saying?”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck snaps, standing on his tippy toes to do one final sweep of the room, but Renjun is unfortunately gone. “Okay, change of plans. I need you to drive me home.”

“What?” Jaemin makes to step back, but Donghyuck’s already got him by the arm and making good work of dragging him outside to the parking lot. “What makes you think I’ll drive you home?”

“You overcharged me by $10 over winter break, so you owe me at least one free ride.”

Jaemin tugs his arm free. “What about your friend back there?” he says, jerking his head back towards the Alumni House.

Donghyuck narrows his eyes at him. "Yukhei? What about him?"

"Well, it just seems like you have something going on with him," Jaemin says, crossing his arms again. To Donghyuck, he almost sounds petulant, which would be entirely funny if Donghyuck weren't three seconds away from wanting to punch him.

"What the hell is _ that _ supposed to mean?"

Jaemin's mouth flattens, and it occurs to Donghyuck that Jaemin is almost acting _ jealous _. "Are you a thing or something?"

"I—" Donghyuck is so completely flummoxed by Jaemin's reaction that he doesn't even think to filter himself before answering. "Not since last year?"

Jaemin does a double take. “_What? _”

Donghyuck scoffs. "We hooked up a couple of times—why is that so surprising? Like anyone would be able to stand _ you _ long enough for you to get anywhere.”

Jaemin stops walking, eyes boring holes into his. They’re at his car now, the black lacquer gleaming liquid and glossy in the street lamps. “You did.”

Even though the night is mild, Donghyuck’s face sears hot and flushed across his nose, the intensity of Jaemin's stare sending a new wave of heat under his collar. “I—I was drunk," he mutters. "And clearly confused.”

Jaemin takes a step closer. “You’re not now, though,” he says, words pressed out low and velveteen.

The parking lot is empty except for the two of them, and Donghyuck swallows. “So?”

Jaemin doesn’t respond at first, hands shoved into the pockets of his sport jacket, gaze burning fire rings into the evening air. Donghyuck doesn't say anything either when Jaemin stops right in front of him, his gaze holding him in place like a butterfly on mounting pin, Jaemin's car at his back. Jaemin cocks his head for a moment like he's assessing him, mouth curling up at the corners of his lips, and Donghyuck feels his entire body go tense like a bow string. But then Jaemin is leaning forward, and then his mouth is on him.

He doesn't remember kissing Jaemin at Jeno's party, but it couldn't have been like this—like _ this _, so controlled and effortless, Jaemin tonguing at the seam of his lips, hot and slick, all the tension bleeding out of Donghyuck's shoulders as he grabs a fistful of his hair, yanks him closer. His back is flush against the door of Jaemin’s car now, boxed in by the bracket of Jaemin’s arms, so there's hardly any space for him to pull back for air, settling for palming the base of Jaemin's throat, pushes back.

“Unlock your car,” Donghyuck breathes, in the millimeters of space in between them.

Jaemin’s reply is almost too low for Donghyuck to catch. “What?”

“I will _not_ be seen with you. Unlock your damn car.”

If Jaemin has any objection to that, it’s lost between the press of their bodies. Donghyuck hears the click of Jaemin’s car door and throws it open, dragging Jaemin inside. Almost immediately, the press of Jaemin’s weight on top of him, pinning him to the slick leather seats has Donghyuck panting softly into his mouth, dragging him even closer. The sound of Jaemin’s soft grunts in his ear making the backseat of car seem ten times smaller than it actually is, mouth searing a brand over the hummingbird wing flutter of his pulse. Jaemin lets out a breathy chuckle, words ghosting over the shell of Donghyuck’s ear.

“That wasn’t so difficult.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck tries to hiss, but the bite is drowned out by the breathless want underscoring his words. He can practically feel Jaemin smirk against his neck, unfortunately just as hot as it is infuriating, so Donghyuck’s only response is to tug his mouth up to kiss him again. If he hasn’t been too busy trying to ignore the way Jaemin’s hand had slipped under his shirt, he would have probably suspected the way Jaemin went way too willingly.

His back pocket vibrates against his ass, and Donghyuck wrenches his mouth away to angle a look at his phone over Jaemin’s shoulder, determinedly tuning out Jaemin attaching his mouth to the junction of his neck. It’s a text from Renjun. Donghyuck huffs in annoyance, using his thumb to swipe open the message.

_ don’t come home lol _

“What the fuck,” Donghyuck bites out, Jaemin momentarily forgotten, and sits up all too abruptly, accidentally knocking the top of Jaemin's head into the ceiling of his car.

“What the hell,” Jaemin hisses, rubbing his crown, but Donghyuck’s mild irritation is flaring up into a blistering annoyance, shoving Jaemin off him.

“Move.”

Jaemin catches Donghyuck's wrist, inhaling sharply. “Where are you going?” His voice is still low and coarse, and Donghyuck swallows thickly, using every inch of self-control to reach past Jaemin to grab the door handle and push it open.

“My roommate’s fucking sexiling me,” he mutters, and this time Jaemin doesn't try to stop him when Donghyuck hauls himself all the way upright and out of his car. The question now is where the hell he’s going to sleep. Fucking Renjun—couldn’t keep it in his pants for just one week. Donghyuck hopes for Dejun’s sake that Renjun’s presentation tomorrow will keep him from having to spend the night. Donghyuck does not walk to walk in on any kind of romping all over their kitchen table.

Jaemin clears his throat, and Donghyuck glances back at him. Jaemin's got one foot out of the car, shirt coming untucked out of his pants (Donghyuck's own doing, he supposes), his tousled hair and swollen mouth evidence enough of what they were doing. Unfortunately it doesn't make him any less attractive.

"Do you still need that ride?" Jaemin asks quietly.

For a second, Donghyuck considers having Jaemin drive him to Mark and Jeno’s, but the thought of dealing with Jeno’s I-told-you-so stares and Mark’s nagging questions is enough to make him reconsider and decides that the convenience is not worth the trouble.

“No thanks,” he says dryly, rubbing the back of his neck. His skin twinges when his palm comes into contact with all the tender marks Jaemin had sucked into his throat, and he flushes. “This,” he mutters, gesturing to the two of them, “stays between us.”

He doesn’t stay long enough to read too much into the crestfallen and bewildered look on Jaemin’s face, because he’s turning on his heel and taking off. Luckily, Jeno and Mark don’t live too far from here.

Jeno opens the door after Donghyuck spends a good minute hammering on it, peering at him through his glasses and stepping aside to let him in.

"Renjun's busy," Donghyuck says curtly,elbowing his way past him into their living room, where he plants himself on their couch. He’s lucky that Mark has early classes and is currently asleep, because Jeno staring at him, eyes dropping down to his neck, is already more than Donghyuck wants to deal with.

“What?" Donghyuck challenges, and Jeno frowns. "You have something to say?”

"You have—" Jeno touches the side of his neck, looking embarrassed. "Were you with someone?"

Donghyuck balls up his sweatshirt sullenly for a pillow, snuggles back against it while glaring at him. “You’ve never been this nosy before, so what gives?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno admits, and Donghyuck hates the look that he's giving him now, the way it puts him on edge, like he has something to hide. Jeno is so different from Renjun—whose gaze is always so penetrating, like all of Donghyuck's thoughts were written out on his bones for him to see—or Mark, who for all of Donghyuck's outbursts and breakdowns always seemed to have the patience, the kindness that he's never quite sure he deserved. Jeno has his own way of making stripping back the casing—maybe not as intimately as Renjun or as gently as Mark—but Donghyuck wilts under his eyes, flushes hot with embarrassment.

“It was Yukhei,” Donghyuck says flatly, promptly rolling over to face away from him. He won't think about the implications of _that_, either, how this one lie might bite him in the ass later.

“Oh,” is all Jeno says. To Donghyuck it almost sounds like he’s disappointed, but there are too many things in his mind right now for him to think that one through. He’ll parse that later. “I thought you and Yukhei quit doing that?”

“Well, I guess not,” Donghyuck says stubbornly into the back of Jeno’s couch, silently hoping that Jeno drops it. Luckily Jeno sighs and Donghyuck hears him go back to his room. It isn’t until he hears Jeno’s door close that Donghyuck exhales slowly, the night’s events settling deep into his skin, into his bones. He could only hope that Jaemin keeps his mouth shut.

Avoiding Jaemin after _ that _ is nigh impossible. Fortunately for Donghyuck, Jaemin seems to have seen the sense in keeping quiet about whatever had transpired that ngiht, but it doesn't make him any less insufferable. The bruises Jaemin had left on his neck hadn't completely faded by the time Donghyuck next walks into training, and the smug smile on his face has Donghyuck pointedly ignoring him, plopping down next to Renjun and the Honors PAs.

For most of the training session, ignoring Jaemin is significantly easier, tuning out their guest speaker for the evening. In fact, it isn't until Renjun jabs him awake that Donghyuck realizes he's fallen asleep.

Donghyuck's chair scrapes back noisily as he stands up to go splash water on his face, ignoring Yerim's glares on him from across the classroom. He makes it quick, standing at the sink drying his face with a paper towel when the door opens. Donghyuck narrows his eyes at Jaemin, but buries his face in the paper towel, patting his skin dry. Behind him, Jaemin doesn't make a move.

"What do you want?" Donghyuck asks curtly. "You need to piss? Go piss."

"You've avoiding me," Jaemin says, hands in his pockets. Like everyone else today, he's in his PAA shirt, which for whatever godforsaken reason Yerim decided to order in a v-neck. Under the collar, Donghyuck can see his the sharp line of collarbones, and smooth golden skin.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, balling up the paper towel between his hands. "Yeah. So? Gonna throw a tantrum?"

Jaemin steps closer, folding his arms across his chest. "Why?"

"'Cause you're a bastard and I hate you," Donghyuck snaps. "Can't you go bother Heejin or Eunbin or something? I'm sure the girls would give you the time of day."

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, and Donghyuck hates that he finds it attractive. "I think you know that I don't really care what girls think about me."

"Good for you," Donghyuck mutters, but the words come out gritty, like his mouth is sandpaper. Jaemin is standing so close to him now, close enough for Jaemin to cage him in against the restroom sink, if he wanted. For Donghyuck to reach out and fist his hand in his shirt, drag him in, if _ he _ wanted. And, although they're in the middle of fucking training, although it would certainly not go unnoticed if both of them didn't come back right away, that doesn't stop the dry, parching rush of heat that flares up through Donghyuck's body, sublimates all the words right out of his mouth.

Jaemin is staring at him again. He never really stops, Donghyuck's noticed, even when Jaemin doesn't think he can. The weight of that gaze, searing across him like a brand. "Stop staring at me."

"Why?" Jaemin's pitch drops, and the heat takes root in Donghyuck's abdomen, curls around his ribs. Jaemin is too close. Donghyuck could push him away. But instead, he swallows, _ fuck it_, hooks his hand around Jaemin's neck and drags him in.

Jaemin meets him halfway, kisses him like he'd been expecting Donghyuck to do just that, the curve of his mouth cauterizing every one of Donghyuck's nerves with simmering fury. Donghyuck shoves himself forward, kisses back with the same force, digs his nails into Jaemin's shoulder hard enough to make him hiss. But kissing Jaemin in the back of his Audi is so much different from kissing Jaemin in a brightly lit bathroom, mere feet away from the others, but Donghyuck decides that he doesn't care, pushes Jaemin backwards into a stall, barely protests when Jaemin backs him up against its door, mouths hungrily at his throat.

"I told you," Jaemin murmurs into his neck, his incisors grazing Donghyuck's pulse point, barely pressing down.

"Told me _ what _, asshole," Donghyuck snaps, but it comes out a little breathless, a little hoarse, his back flat against the stall door.

Jaemin chuckles against the side of his jaw, flattening the palm of his hand against Donghyuck's stomach, presses his leg between Donghyuck's thighs. "You're nicer to me when I'm kissing you."

The aggravated whine this drags out of him is one he'd never admit to making, grinding up against Jaemin's leg. "Imagine how nice I'd be if you put your mouth to better use," Donghyuck snaps.

Jaemin pulls back, eyes darkening. "You want me to?"

"I—" Jaemin's eyes are on him again, trailing down, _ down— _and Donghyuck barely suppresses another whine as his dick starts to swell in his jeans. "What—you really think you're gonna blow me in the fucking bathroom?"

But Jaemin has already dropped to his knees, that liquid gaze back on him, makes to reach for his zipper. "If you'll be nicer to me, then yeah—"

And Donghyuck, aching hard in his jeans and one hand in Jaemin's hair, has no time or energy to process the way that Jaemin's voice catches in his words. Has no intention of reading into that more than he has to, because Jaemin is on his knees for him in a school bathroom, and Donghyuck has nothing left of his pride. "Just—hurry up."

If Jaemin had been expecting a different response, he doesn't show it, and instead palms Donghyuck through his jeans, slowly slides his zipper down. Donghyuck had tucked his shirt in, so Jaemin has to pull it out of the way before turning his attention to Donghyuck's briefs—yellow today.

"Cute," he murmurs, and Donghyuck growls in his throat.

"If you don't fucking get on with it—"

Donghyuck doesn't have to say much else before Jaemin's pulling down his underwear, fisting him loosely. The skin of Jaemin's palm is too rough and dry, but Jaemin's hand is large and Donghyuck's still keening in the back of his throat because it's been too long, far too long, and anything is monumentally better than nothing. "Jaemin, I swear to god—"

Maybe it's the fact that Donghyuck says his name, his real name, and not _ asshole _ or _ bastard _ the way he normally does, but that's impetus enough for Jaemin to lean forward without warning and suck him deftly into his mouth, and then Donghyuck no longer cares what he's calling him anymore.

Too soon, Donghyuck hates how he feels like he's unraveling with just mere seconds of Jaemin's mouth around him, but Jaemin knows what he's doing, tonguing at the bottom of his dick as he pulls back smoothly, precome and saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth.

It's good—it's too stupidly good, and Donghyuck makes the mistake of looking down at Jaemin kneeling there between his legs, his breath catching hot behind his teeth when he comes face to face with Jaemin staring up at him from beneath his lashes, watching him even as he dips forward again, sending every last bit of Donghyuck's dignity out on the high wire for all the world to see. And Donghyuck doesn't know if it's because he's close or if it's something in Jaemin's stare that's making his ribs constrict into an iron cage, but all Donghyuck knows is that if Jaemin keeps looking at him with those eyes, he's done for.

He curls fingers into Jaemin's stupid pink hair, yanks hard, hips bucking forward into his mouth, and Jaemin inhales sharply through his nose. Donghyuck doesn't care.

"Stop—fucking looking at me, I'm—" he bites out, straining to keep his whine to a whisper. "I'm gonna come, fuck—"

For a second, Jaemin breaks eye contact and Donghyuck almost lets out a sob of relief as all the weight of Jaemin's gaze is gone, but then Jaemin pulls back quick and sudden, lips sealed around the head of his cock as he glances up at him from beneath lashes that are unfairly long and sucks, and Donghyuck loses it, his cries muffled into the back of his wrist, the other hand in a vice-like grip on Jaemin's hair.

And just like that, it's over. Jaemin pulls off, wiping his mouth, and Donghyuck slumps back against the stall door weakly, heart hammering. He's vaguely aware of Jaemin swallowing, but Donghyuck tries to ignore that as he tucks himself back into his pants. He most definitely ignores how Jaemin's straining against his own jeans, how Jaemin's still staring up at him like he's expecting to be rewarded. Donghyuck, even though he's jelly limbed and dizzy from orgasm, scoffs.

"You want me to praise you on a job well done?"

"So it _ was _ good then," Jaemin says, getting to his feet, lips curling up into a half grin, and he takes a step forward.

Donghyuck realizes only a second beforehand that Jaemin is trying to kiss him again, and he panics, shoves him back.

"Don't," he snaps.

Something incomprehensible shutters across Jaemin's face just for a moment, but then it's gone, and Jaemin's back to smirking at him, hands in his pockets.

"Let's go back?"

Donghyuck opens the stall, throwing a glare over his shoulder. "Stay here. Don't come back with me."

Jaemin pauses, brows knitting together. "Why?"

"I don't want anyone to say anything."

Jaemin's starting to say something, but Donghyuck doesn't stick around to hear it, stalking out of the restroom without looking back. If Renjun's giving him a look when he comes back into the classroom, plopping down noisily in his chair while dodging Renjun's elbow in between his ribs, then he doesn't look back.

"I fucking _ hate _ him." Donghyuck almost rips out one of his textbook pages from turning it too violently, and Jeno pats his arm nervously, looking around the library room where they're studying. "He is such a fucking asshole."

"Jaemin's not that bad," Jeno says dubiously. "Like, if you get to know him?"

Donghyuck glares at him. "Speaking of that, I've been meaning to ask you—what the hell was Jaemin doing at your birthday?"

Jeno blinks at him. "Jaemin's my friend. I invited him to come."

For one cruel second, Donghyuck almost thinks that Jeno is joking. He stares at Jeno's confused, handsome face, waiting for the punchline to come, for Jeno to break into his usual eyesmile and grin, but he doesn't, just keeps gazing blankly back at him.

"You're _ friends _ with Jaemin?" Donghyuck's voice raises loud enough to have Jeno grip his arm in an attempt to silence him, again glancing around at the other students studying.

"Donghyuck, please," Jeno wheedles. "So what if I'm friends with Jaemin, I don't get what the big deal is—"

"I have literally been bitching about Jaemin all quarter, and it didn't once occur to you that maybe you should tell me that you somehow _know each other_?" Donghyuck hisses, ignoring the pointed looks other students send him from across the library.

Jeno, to his credit, at least has the decency to look sheepish. "He was in my Bio and Chem classes freshman year—I don't know, I guess it never came up?"

Donghyuck does shut up then, frowning. Something doesn't sound quite right. "Wait," Donghyuck says slowly. "What was Jaemin doing in Bio and Chem courses if he's majoring in Cog Sci?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Jeno says, surprised. "Jaemin came in as Bio. We were actually in a lot of classes together until he switched out before Spring quarter."

Donghyuck stares at him, the gears finally clicking into place. Not that switching majors isn't common, but when it comes to Bio Sci, _ switching out _ almost always meant _ failing out_. "You mean to tell me," he begins, not even bothering to whisper this time. "That Jaemin _ failed _ out of Bio?"

Jeno winces. "You don't have to say it like that—"

"Oh, this is _ excellent_," Donghyuck breathes, vindictive and gleeful. "This is the best thing that could ever happen to me."

"Please don't bring it up to him," Jeno begs him, panicking. "I don't think Jaemin's ever really gotten over it—" 

"Well, too bad. He'll get what's coming to him."

"Donghyuck, _please_—"

"Both of you—" One of the other students finally hisses, standing up from her table, glaring at them both. "_Be quiet_."

Donghyuck wastes absolutely no time the next time he bursts into the training lecture hall, only registering Yerim's instructions to sit outside their units vaguely enough to ignore her, and settles deliberately into the chair next to Jaemin.

Jaemin glances up at him, sits up a little straighter the moment he meets Donghyuck's eyes. "Hi—"

"So I heard something interesting," Donghyuck begins sweetly, giving Jaemin a smile that Jaemin returns, somewhat uncertainly.

"Yeah?" It's unsettling, the way Jaemin's face goes from neutral to almost earnest, but he's not here to psychoanalyze Jaemin's behavior. Donghyuck almost falters for a second, because the smile on Jaemin's face is unlike any he's seen before—broad, genuine. No trace of the person who'd spend half the quarter getting under Donghyuck's skin. Donghyuck falters for a second, before remembering what he'd come here to do. 

"I heard," Donghyuck continues, each word dripping with vindictive pleasure. "That you actually _failed_ out of Bio Sci. Isn't it so funny how these things come around?"

He spend the next few seconds savoring Jaemin's reaction in slow motion, whatever words he'd been about to say seemingly dying in his throat. Jaemin shuts his mouth, features darkening.

"After all the shit you keep giving me about majoring in Psych," Donghyuck continues on, the sweet justice of it all only fueling the fire. "Really fucking rich, coming from someone who couldn't even pass Chem 1B."

He's expecting Jaemin to snap back with one of his usual bastard comments, but Jaemin only turns around to face Yerim, the line of his jaw tight and tense.

"Donghyuck, you need to sit with people outside your unit," Yerim says pointedly, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes, getting up to plop down next to Jeno.

"What did you do?" Jeno asks warily, turning out to peer at Jaemin.

Donghyuck scowls, opening his training binder with intentional focus. "Gave Jaemin a taste of his own medicine."

Jeno sighs deeply, and Donghyuck braces himself for whatever tired reprimand is sure to come, but then Yerim walks to the front of the room and they both give her their attention for the rest of the evening.

Jaemin doesn't speak to him at all in the following week, which Donghyuck considers a great improvement. It does, however, make training slightly awkward. He's sitting next to Jeno tonight, and the moment Jaemin walks in and sees Donghyuck sitting with him, he turns away immediately.

"Great," Jeno groans, setting his training binder down with a heavy thud, watching Jaemin make his way across the lecture hall to sit on the opposite side. "Now Jaemin's avoiding me because he doesn't want to sit with you. Can't you just apologize like a normal person?"

"Apologize for what?" Donghyuck snaps, crossing his arms. "He was an asshole to me first. If he wants me to say sorry, he can start." Yerim throws their table a glare from across the classroom, and Donghyuck slouches down a little more in his seat. "Plus, he deserved it."

Jeno sighs. "You seem pretty pleased with yourself, though to me you're acting like a child."

"Everyone acts like a child, according to you," Donghyuck retorts. "Everyone who isn't Mark that is."

"Do you really want to strain relations right now?" Jeno whispers, flipping to today's section in their binder. "You're literally going to be working with him for the entire year, plus this summer."

Donghyuck scoffs. "I don't care. I have—I have Yangyang."

Jeno raises his eyebrows at him. "You really think you can avoid Jaemin forever just by relying on Yangyang?"

"Fuck you, Yangyang actually likes me."

"_Jaemin _ likes you, you idiot—" Jeno's eyes widen. "Oh shit."

"What," Donghyuck hisses, only momentarily distracted by their new speaker for today, one of the representatives from the Learning Resource center. "What the fuck did you say?"

Jeno gives him a strained, helpless look, but only when the speaker clears his throat the front of the room does Donghyuck turn back around in his seat, quietly fuming. He manages to keep it all under control until after training is over. Jeno packs his things so quickly he nearly spills half his water in his attempt to bolt out of the classroom. Donghyuck growls and dashes after him, grabbing him by the back of his bag.

"Hold the fuck on," Donghyuck says, yanking Jeno back roughly. "You don't get to go anywhere."

"I have somewhere very important to be," Jeno says meekly.

"Mark's dick can wait for you, I promise," Donghyuck snaps, ignoring how the other students stare at him dragging Jeno out of the Learning Pavilion. "You have explaining to do."

Jeno makes a pathetic whimpery sound. "There's nothing to explain. I said something I wasn't supposed to."

"Which is exactly why you are contractually obligated to tell me," Donghyuck says. "That's on you. So tell me that you were actually joking because there's no way that bastard likes me."

Jeno sighs, sinking down onto one of the rock-hewn benches outside the pavilion. "Donghyuck, Jaemin's not a bastard, okay? He's my friend. And he likes you." Jeno glances up to him. "A lot."

"Impossible—you've got to be shitting me."

"You asked me to tell you, so there it is. Technically it's not even my business, but it's really hard to listen you to rag on him all the time. Jaemin just wants to talk to you."

"Jaemin just wants to rile me up half the time," Donghyuck seethes. "All he ever does is insult me!"

Jeno gives him a long, discerning look. "Are you sure you're not the one who's doing that?"

Donghyuck can feel himself bristling, flushing furiously across his nose. "I think I would be the first to know if I were. Very funny, Jeno, joke's over now. Don't pull this shit again."

"Donghyuck," Jeno begins, grimacing, but Donghyuck is already taking off in the direction of the main footpath towards the student parking structure, where he's seen Jaemin park his car every Thursday.

Jaemin must be a slow walker, but he's only putting things in his trunk when Donghyuck catches up to him, out of breath and extremely on edge.

Jaemin turns around, startled, and a dark expression comes over his face when he sees Donghyuck standing there. "What do you want?" he says, voice low and flat.

The livecrackle of tension is poignant that Donghyuck hesitates for a second, allowing himself to watch Jaemin look at him, the way betrayal folds thick over his blessing of features, coloring him vulnerable. Closed up.

"You like me," Donghyuck blurts out, and the darkness in Jaemin's eyes bleeds straight out of his face. It's not what he meant to say, but it's what comes out. "I don't—you _ can't _ like me."

He's expecting Jaemin to deny it, to scowl and scoff at him to get lost before getting into his car like the arrogant prick he always is. But Jaemin just folds his arms across his chest and holds his gaze. "I like you."

"That's impossible," Donghyuck says faintly, staring at him. "That's—you _ hate _me."

And Jaemin's brows knit together, the silence stitching up. "When have I ever said that I hate you?"

It's the question that renders his confusion tumultuous, Donghyuck's questions a brew inside him, churning, a maelstrom. Jaemin will not fucking look away from him, even though Donghyuck wishes that he would, but Jaemin always has to keep on looking at him the way he always does. Donghyuck hates it. He hates that he can't look away either.

"I—" Between them, the bubble of silence swells, the words that Donghyuck can't quite seem to find stretching out like spidersilk. He's trying to think of an instance—any instance—of Jaemin voicing it aloud, but Donghyuck sifts through each and every single one of their interactions with frantic fingers, hands coming up empty.

Jaemin holds his gaze. Waits for him. He's always doing that too, Donghyuck's noticed, waiting for him. Donghyuck is the one playing catch up now, no matter how many steps he's tried to be ahead.

Donghyuck doesn't answer, turning on his heel and leaving Jaemin with his questions, his silence, his pride.

The last few weeks of the quarter pass by in a mindless blur, the looming inevitability of finals forcing Donghyuck into a mechanical routine of classes, studying, training, homework, and sleep. He's become so busy that he barely has the time to consider Jaemin's confession, the deep rooted hurt in his eyes, the oil-slick guilt coating the insides of his lungs. Renjun has it much worse than he does, Donghyuck sometimes going days without seeing his roommate at all. He's pretty sure that Renjun's even given up his weekly trysts with Dejun, now completely and entirely in finals lockdown mode. Donghyuck doesn't envy him.

He's on his way home from the library one night, bag slung across his chest, clutching an iced coffee that's already been watered down from the ice, when he comes across a hunched shadow sitting in the planter next to his door.

"Jisung?" Donghyuck says, squinting. "How long have you been waiting out here?"

Jisung blanches a little, getting up hastily and brushing off the bottom of his sweatpants. "Sorry," he says quickly, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. "I just—"

Donghyuck frowns at Jisung's swollen eyes, the smudges of tear tracks over the tops of his cheeks, and gestures towards his door. "You wanna talk inside?"

Jisung nods mutely, so Donghyuck lets them both in. Jisung takes a seat at his kitchen table, looking most incredibly small for all his height and gangly limbs. Donghyuck pours him a glass of water. "What's up?"

Jisung chews on his lip, tensing up for a second. "I failed my last chem midterm."

"Oh," Donghyuck says, sitting down in the chair across from him. "Jisung—"

"What if I fail, hyung?" Jisung's voice wavers, catches on all his words. "I'm falling so behind in this course—I don't know what I'll do if I don't pass—"

"Hey," Donghyuck soothes, trying not to show his alarm, but it's difficult to keep his heart from swelling beyond the confines of his chest when Jisung is shivering in his kitchen, two seconds from crying. "Jisung, it's fine—it's okay—"

"Maybe I'm not suited for STEM after all." Jisung slumps forward, burrowing his head in his arms, and draws in a shuddering breath. "I really—" Jisung cuts himself off mid-sentence, a strangled noise in his throat, and Donghyuck understands. He gets it, because he's been here before, can understand every single one of the ugly and terrible thought distortions going through Jisung's mind. He doesn't try to tell him that they're not real. It wouldn't matter anyway, even if he did, because everything is always realer when you're crying, when the world compresses to encapsulate only this—the hurt and the fear and the doubt.

Donghyuck reaches across the table to put both hands on Jisung's shoulders, gently squeezes. "Jisung—" he says, nudging him to look up. Jisung emerges from the cocoon of his arms, face once again tear-streaked. "If you don't pass this class, I promise—it's not the end of the world, okay?"

Jisung sniffles, his ears and neck flushed red and dewy, and swipes furiously at his cheeks. "Sorry," he whispers. Donghyuck squeezes his shoulders again and offers him a smile.

"Remember what I told you before? What my advisors always used to tell me? 'Your major—'"

"'—doesn't define you,' I know," Jisung mumbles, rubbing at his nose. "It's just—I don't want anyone to think badly of me, for not being able to pass a stupid chem class."

The guilt that slams into him then is entirely unexpected, each one of Jisung's words tiny little barbs that dig in their hooks and pull. Donghyuck stares back at Jisung, who is barely eighteen years old and learning to piece himself together in ways that Donghyuck knows by heart. Jisung has already had to learn the hard way that the world will always be a place where you are judged more by your failures than by your successes—it's the world that Donghyuck grew up in, one that he's worked tooth and nail to flip on its head, the world that Donghyuck finds himself in once again, swimming against the current. He'd made it to the other side once. He knows what it's like. He can get there again, and so will Jisung.

Donghyuck smooths a hand down the back of Jisung's head. "Right now," he says, "the problem feels this big." Donghyuck spreads his arms out to the sides. "And it's gonna suck for a little bit. I failed two of my courses during my first quarter. But after this summer, it's gonna be like this—" He brings his hands closer together. "And after you graduate—" Donghyuck smiles, nudging Jisung's elbow with his. "How big do you think it'll feel?"

Jisung sniffs and offers back the tiniest, most tentative of smiles, holding up a pinch with his fingers. "Like this?"

Jisung will be okay, he thinks, even as he scoots his chair over to Jisung's side of the table, winds his arms around his shoulders, holds him. Jisung will be okay, just like Donghyuck was okay. It will take time, but Jisung will come to realize, just as Donghyuck had, that there are much bigger and more important things than flunking an exam. That it's okay to not have everything figured out at eighteen. Or that things like not passing Chemistry, or switching out of Bio Sci, maybe don't matter in the long run after all.

For whatever reason, Yangyang doesn't seem to operate on the same schedule as wakefulness and energy as Donghyuck does, evidenced by the entirely inappropriate call he makes to him at 7:30 in the morning.

Donghyuck squints at his vibrating phone from his cocoon of blankets, as if glaring at it would cause Yangyang to hang up, but unfortunately that isn't the case. His phone screen goes dark for a moment, before lighting up again with another incoming call. Donghyuck grumbles, swipes for it angrily.

"It is—" Donghyuck grunts as soon as he hit answer. "Seven in the morning, Yangyang."

"Oh, I know!" To the make the offense worse, Yangyang sounds far too peppy and awake for any normal functioning person. "I think it's always better to call people early to give them plenty of advanced notice when asking for a favor."

Donghyuck rolls onto his back, rubbing at his eyes groggily. "A favor?"

"Oh yes—I have a training shift in the office today, but I'm actually sick and I can't make it. I was wondering if you can cover me?"

"Today?" It takes him a good minute to force his sleep-groggy brain to focus on his class schedule. He only has clinical psych today, but that's in the afternoon. "What time?"

"My shift is from nine to eleven," Yangyang trills. "Donghyuck, thank you so much!"

"You sound fine to me," Donghyuck says crossly.

"Oh, no, trust me—I'm very sick," Yangyang says solemnly. "Thanks again!"

Donghyuck hangs up with a sigh and sits up in bed, stretching. At least he'd get his good karma for the day.

Ten minutes 'til nine finds Donghyuck greeting the staff at the Social Sciences front desk before plopping down in one of the peer cubicles, flipping open his training notebook. He's only half-listening when he hears whoever is on shift with Yangyang enter, Donghyuck scooting his chair back to say hello when he freezes.

Jaemin, one hand on his bag strap, holds his gaze for a couple of moments before his jaw tightens, eyes shuttering. He takes a seat at a cubicle on the other side of the office, back facing towards him.

Donghyuck feels his innards turn into marble inside his stomach, swallowing thickly as he turns back to his training materials. Even with Jaemin facing away from him, the silence in the office seems like it could be folded twice over, looping its coils around his neck. Donghyuck swallows again, glances over his shoulder. Jaemin is still labelling file folders. Donghyuck steels himself.

"So—Cognitive Science." His voice in the quiet is sudden, jarring. It seems to have startled Jaemin too, from the way his shoulders tense up. Jaemin turns his head slightly.

"What about it?"

Donghyuck leans back in his chair, twirling his pencil. "What were you thinking of doing with Cog Sci?"

Jaemin turns around the rest of the way, guard slowly lowering. "I—wanted to work with kids, actually." He gives him a tense smile. "Not that it matters to you."

The statement hits Donghyuck like a blow to the stomach, a sudden wash of heat flooding his body.

"Look, Jaemin—" Donghyuck takes a deep breath. Apologies have always been hard for him, his skin a little too ill-fitting for the words to truly settle, sink into his bones. Donghyuck has always been used to fighting for the upper hand; concession is just not part of the lexicon of his body, even when it nearly had driven away the most important people in his life.

He exhales. "I'm—I'm sorry. For what I said about you switching out of Bio. And for accusing you of not caring about Jisung," he says quietly.

Jaemin looks at him for another moment, turns around to face him fully. "Jisung called me yesterday," he says, light and careful, like he's just caught Donghyuck's apology in his hands. "Told me he wasn't going to pursue Chemistry anymore."

"Oh?" Donghyuck hadn't known about that, looking up to see his reaction, but Jaemin's expression is mostly just tired. "Are you disappointed?"

"No," Jaemin sighs, leaning back in his chair. "I'm glad he's finally going with something he likes."

Donghyuck pulls at a stray thread in the sleeve of his sweater. "What's that?"

Jaemin looks up at meet his gaze. "Dance."

Donghyuck exhales. "Oh," he breathes, and licks his lips. "That's great."

Jaemin doesn't respond to that, turns back halfway to his desk. "It is."

For a few moments, the silence goes back to being fraught and tender, the ambient noise of the pro-staff advisors at the front of the office draping a muffled, lace-like veil over the sore, and Donghyuck sucks in another breath.

"Jaemin," Donghyuck says quietly, edging carefully around the soft core of what he's trying to say. "For what it's worth, I think you're going to be a great peer advisor."

He's not sure what compels him to say it. Maybe because there's something in Jaemin's eyes that reminds Donghyuck of how he'd felt almost two years ago, lost and adrift with nothing to hold onto. Because, at first, he hadn't been the type to reach out recklessly for handholds he hadn't known for sure would be there, but he is now. Because—if nothing else—the last couple of weeks have taught Donghyuck that sometimes you need to pretend until you know what you're doing.

Jaemin holds his gaze for another moment. "You too," he says finally, and something cleaves apart the tension, Donghyuck's chest unconstricting from its cage. "I'm sorry too."

Donghyuck glances over at him. "Sorry—?"

"For giving you a hard time this quarter." Jaemin, most miraculously, sounds sincere. "You are really difficult to talk to, sometimes. Especially when you're always jumping down my throat for reasons I can't quite fathom."

Donghyuck flushes a searing red-hot at the fact that Jaemin's just admitted to flirting with him for the past six weeks, and sticks his nose in the air. "Well, if you hadn't been such an asshole to me at the interview—"

"Ah, that—" Jaemin, to his credit, looks sheepish. "I—I was intimidated. Your resume was good, and I didn't think I would get the position." He swallows and looks up to meet Donghyuck's eyes again. "I'm sorry."

Donghyuck licks his lips again, staring right back at him, parse the mood. "So I guess we're even, now."

Jaemin pushes his chair out towards the center of the room, eyes a steady livewire, a tightrope into his core. Whether he realizes it or not, this is what Jaemin's doing—waiting for him in midair, laying everything out on display. "Oh?" he asks, voice a low, quiet timbre. There's a small curl to his mouth, quietly and gently pleased. "So now what?"

And it's the easiest thing in the world, then, to kiss him, to kiss that stupid smile right off his face, so Donghyuck does. Scoots his own chair out to meet Jaemin halfway, leans in and presses their mouths together like so many brave and reckless leaps of faith.

Later, if the staff that comes in on duty wonders why Jaemin had moved places right next to him—the press of Jaemin's leg against his sending more waves of heat suffusing throughout his body—then Donghyuck won't have anything to say. That's not her business.

And if Jaemin had reached for Donghyuck's hand under the table—if Donghyuck had blushed scarlet but didn't pull away—that's _ definitely _ no one else's business.

"I have to say," Yangyang says cheerfully, as he settles into one of the lecture hall seats, all too chipper for the week right before finals. More than half of the peers are dozing in their seats, drained from studying, "This is much better than all the rampant sexual tension!"

Donghyuck scowls and flips him off, but makes no move to untwine his fingers from Jaemin's, where their hands are resting in Jaemin's lap.

Jaemin makes a low, pleased noise in his throat, running his thumb over the backs of Donghyuck's knuckles. "I'm inclined to agree," he says, all too smug, and brings Donghyuck's hand up to his lips.

"Be quiet," Donghyuck grumbles, Jaemin's lips on the back of his hand sending an unpleasant wave of heat up the back of his neck, but doesn't yank his hand away.

"Are you planning on bringing him over this summer?" Renjun asks, exasperated, from his seat in the row in front of them. He turns around in his chair to give Donghyuck a look. "Please tell me in advance so I know to go to Dejun's."

Donghyuck sits up so fast he almost knocks his and Jaemin's training binders over. "Oh, so now you admit that you _ do _have something going on?"

Renjun immediately stands up, his face contorted like he's just sucked on a lemon. "I've never said a thing in my life."

Up front, Yerim is passing out the schedules for the summer, where they'd all be putting to use their training at the upcoming freshmen orientations. But that's in July—they still have a good month before they need to be back on campus. Renjun has a flight out to Shenzhen the day after his last final, and Yangyang will purportedly be dragging his boyfriend on a backpacking trip across Europe. Jeno and Mark are staying local for the summer while Mark's internship carries out, and Donghyuck—

Jaemin leans into Donghyuck's space, settles his hand on Donghyuck's thigh. "What are your plans for the next three and a half weeks?"

Donghyuck shivers, but tugs down Jaemin's arm to wrap himself around it. "No plans," he announces.

"Let's go somewhere," Jaemin says, sliding a hand down to his knee. "I'll drive?"

"As long as you don't overcharge me like last time," Donghyuck says, and Jaemin laughs, promises that he won't. But that doesn't matter, because—even if he does—Donghyuck doesn't think that he'll mind. It will have been worth his while.

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to krys, crys, and eshi for the handholding and frantic brainstorming sessions, and for everyone on tlist who put up with me whining about this fic. it's finally over!!
> 
> this was literally so self-indulgent, goodbye!!! if you've stuck with me til the end, thank you so much. please consider leaving me a comment if you enjoyed ♡ 
> 
> [twt](http://twitter.com/plosionlateral) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/haetbit)


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